I was driving home from the grocery store the other day, thinking about the fact that after nearly two years of stasis, my divorce is actually filed with the Berkshire Probate and Family Court and I have an upcoming court date to look forward to. On April 11, just 4 days after I turn 31, I will be testifying before a judge to the fact that my marriage is irretrievably broken, and hopefully the whole process will be finalized by Bastille Day. The fact that a marriage can still be legal, can still exist at all, after this much time apart, and this much hurt, seems crazy, but it is a fact. It's something I have learned about divorce since I started working for a lawyer: sometimes they take forever simply because people are lazy and just don't feel like filing the necessary paperwork. Or, in my case, because they want it to be over but don't want to fork over the $215.00 for filing fees and sheriff's service. Divorce is expensive, and I waited Gino out because I'm stubborn and I thought the onus should be on him to pay the fees. It's juvenile, but I don't really care that much about doing the mature thing when at certain points in the past year, I had to live on 5 dollars a day for weeks at a time just so my bills were paid. I was not dragging my feet or stalling-I just didn't have the funds to cut these ties for good.
I was thinking about all of this, and flipping through songs on my iPod, not really paying attention more than I had to, and I thought about the fact that Gino only has one suit, and it is the same suit that he wore in our wedding, and that suit is currently hanging in my closet because it just kind of ended up there. I had the thought, "I should bring the suit to him so he has something nice to wear for court," and then I had to stop and wonder why I still care about him having something nice to wear at all, let alone something nice to wear to divorce me in.
During this whole ordeal, the popular opinion has been, from a few people, that I am too nice. I accommodated my ex at every turn for no reason other than the fact that I wanted to have a big banner over my head that read LOOK AT HOW WELL I'M HANDLING THIS! I know that some of my need to handle it well was to take some of the responsibility away from him. If I was handling it this well, he didn't hurt me that much, and therefore, no one could hate him. I have tried to find ways to make him look good, to work out my feelings over this while trying to avoid placing the blame completely on him. I wanted to make the fact that he wanted this divorce not his fault, or as if he had no choice even though I know I was a good wife. I am still trying to figure out if trying to remain friends with him was due to actually wanting him in my life because I still needed him, or if I was just trying another way to make him look better. It doesn't matter now since we aren't friends any more.
This moment where I thought about how I can continue to make my ex-husband look good (sartorially, this time at least) came on the heels of feeling guilty all day over my shitty attitude just the night before. I went out to a party and even though I had been looking forward to it, and was enjoying myself at first, I gradually sank into a bad mood. I had a busy day without enough sleep the night before, my feet hurt, I didn't feel fuckable, the room was crowded, and I just started being kind of a bitch. A guy was there who I know, and he always catches me right at a moment when I'm not smiling and then tells me that I should smile. I get self-conscious when he is around me because I am just waiting for him to point out the fact that I'm not smiling. And then I overcompensate, and smile too much, and I feel like my smile is empty and doesn't quite reach my eyes. I don't smile all the time because the truth is, sometimes I don't feel like it. Especially if I'm concentrating or just trying not to trip over my feet or, as was the case the other night, just really tired.
I could not have even forced myself to smile that night because it just felt like everyone was more alert and having a better time than me, and when this guy asked me what was wrong, I was kind of snappy. "I'm tired," I said, refusing to engage because I just wanted to sit, and wait for the night to wind down so I could get a ride home. I felt guilty the next day because of the fact that sometimes, I'm grumpy. And then guilty over the fact that when I'm grumpy, I'm not always nice to people. And then guilty about the fact that I am still trying to do nice things for my ex when he really doesn't deserve them. And then guilty over the fact that I couldn't be nice and pretend I was having a great time the night before. There is a chance I am reading too far into being in a bad mood on one occasion, and my conflicting feelings about my ex are coming about naturally because after nearly two years of waiting, this could be coming to an end very quickly. The one probably has nothing to do with the other, and I should maybe be a little nicer to myself, at least as nice as I am trying to be to the man who is divorcing me.
