@Gypsy, you eternal pounder-of-the-boards, you! If I had the time to be in a show, I'da be the most a'happy fella inna the whole Napa Valley (hah! see how I did that? a show-biz metaphor! ). The last time I was a player was in college, though arguably I play a role every time I get in front of an audience of 250 (often not-so-) eager undergraduates and pretend to know what I'm talking about.
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You will never have the answer she's looking for... period.
That's absolutely right -- which is why the sparrow says it just don't signify. One reason, perhaps, is that I'm no longer playing the role she defined for me, and that irritates her no end.
But even that statement is predicated on the assumption that she knows what answer she's looking for from one moment to the next -- a tenuous assumption indeed.
Though folks don't quite believe it, I'm content to be divorced -- this creature that bears a vague (and increasingly vaguer-er) resemblance to my wife holds no appeal for me, physically, emotionally, or intellectually. I haven't a clue who she is or any desire to find out; that does, in fact, bother me. I would have preferred something different. But that's what I got.
It's the getting divorced that's such a damnable pain in the a**, because it apparently requires a constant stream of petty cruelties, pointless barbs, turn-on-a-dime outbursts, and a never-ending series of stupid little lies.
I feel like saying, Okay, fine, I hear you say you hate me, have contempt for me, loathe me, etc. That's fine, that's your right, it's all good. But really, do you have to insult my intelligence? Can't you hate me but still acknowledge the skills?
It's something, friends, I tell you. I mean, we communicate about Themselves via this online service the court required, and it logs when each parent signs in and reads the postings -- you know, so there's a record of it.
T'other day, she missed a long-standing and rather important medical appointment for Themselves, though she claimed for weeks to have it "under control." The office called me, because apparently they'd been calling her and getting no reply, to verify the appointment the night before.
This seemed somewhat important to me, so I texted a reminder to her: Hi, FYI, Doc's office called here 2 confirm 2morro's appt; know u have it under control, but thot it best 2 pass msg on since they asked.
As you can guess, she missed the appointment. And, as you can guess, she predictably dealt with missing the appointment not by taking responsibility for missing the appointment, but by lashing at me on the online: "That text message totally interrupted my day! It was completely unnecessary! Post the info here! I check this website EVERY SINGLE DAY!"
I felt like saying, "Really? Because I see the log here of when you signed in, and there's a 3-day gap leading right up to the night before the appointment." But there I go again, believing my lying eyes instead of my impeccably forthright and always trustworthy STBX....
Not long ago she issued a breathtaking, hit-the-trifecta-in-the-Triple-Crown series of lies, one atop the other. And after a long silence brought on by utter astonishment, all I could say was, "You do realize, don't you, that I stopped filling that prescription for Stupid Pills?"
But so it goes. Miss Someone pointed out the other day that even STBX herself might not know she's doing this; apparently this isn't uncommon in MLC. I'm not sure which, at the end of the day, is scarier to consider -- the idea that she does it on purpose or the idea that she doesn't even know she's doing it.
All divorce is merely a show, dear @Gypsy, and we merely players in it, and it would appear I have been given the role of the Dane.
). The last time I was a player was in college, though arguably I play a role every time I get in front of an audience of 250 (often not-so-) eager undergraduates and pretend to know what I'm talking about.
