Loving Men-Mail

Why don’t we just forgive everything.

I have been running from the destruction my 32 year relationship. Running so hard that I’m out of breath.

We didn’t break-up, we divorced. And as anyone that’s been divorced knows, it’s not a pleasant experience. Attorneys strip your entire marriage of anything valuable. Like looters they check every closet, every room, every ornament, every gift, every personal treasure, searching for anything that could hold value. They search for this bounty relentlessly, telling their clients that there’ll be more booty that you’ll get. Getting divorced is like being autopsied while still alive.

While my life was being dissected, I was also losing my mind.

I tried to murder my ex-spouse in an emergency room in Chicago. I allegedly verbally threatened a doctor at an office or in the ER or a hospital room. I stopped paying my bills, but spent money like I was J.P. Getty. I fell into arrears.

Part of my settlement was a large parcel of five months of mail. There was one Christmas card from a hospital; months of past due notices; two letters from debt collector’s, one from an attorney; old magazines; Government notices; and a letter from a physician’s group alleging that I verbally assaulted a doctor.

Facing your past under such a beam of light is blinding. Not only did I lose everything I thought I had, now I had to face everything else I ran from. My life’s been pillaged by this divorce: I lost him, home, and character.

All this will fade to memory as I keep my eyes on the present.

It’s all behind me: in the trash.