Why I got Divorced  − 29 September, 2001

You could say it had been coming for a long time. M and I were on rocky times since we got married. We'd had fights the night before we got married. We fought every night in Eugene. We fought in LA. So when we came to San Diego, we actually lived in a house all to our own. The rest had been apartments or houses with other room-mates. In any case, we had plenty of privacy to have our arguments in. It was only later that I realized that no matter how big your house it, people still know a disfunctional relationship when they see one.

For my part, I made a go of it. I can remember several times having conversations with my mother telling her that M was abusive and that I was planning on leaving her. My mother would plead for me to get counselling and make it work. Which I would. And for a time things would work. Even if only partially.

Then September 11. I wrote about how I felt immediately after September 11. It made me feel disconnected with my surroundings. The permanent effect was that I felt distant from all of the things that had brought me to where I was at that point in my life. I felt as if I had lost touch with my friends from high school and college. I felt like I was working too hard. I felt like my family wasn't as close to me any more. And on top of it, I looked at my wife and thought, this person next to me every day and every night has no respect for me.

The seed for that thought was in me. But it didn't start to grow until 9-11. After that, I was ready for an out. It came in the form of Barry Bond's 73rd home run.

The chase to break Mark McGuire's home run record that was set only a few years before was all that I cared about at the end of October. I think the whole world was still a bit numb at that point. So having a record to concentrate on was a welcome diversion. So that fall I was dead set on seeing Barry hit his record homer live if I could.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

It was a Friday night and my friend Vivek was in town back to visit from San Francisco. He had started his own company out of his house with a friend and moved it up to SF only a few months before. He was a game designer and had a really good idea to build a game for kids. In any case, I played soccer with Vivek (we called him "V" for short) and when he showed up in town, he literally drove to the soccer field to announce his arrival on Friday night. He knew we'd all be there. Awesome. It was really good to see him. So immediately I offered to host a barbecue in his honor and the soccer team all made plans to be at my place the next night for some ribs and beers. We had this huge back yard, lived on a busy street with plenty of parking and neighbors who didn't care about noise. Perfect. "Welcome back, V!"

So the next day, I get up and go get all of the fixings for the BBQ. Having stocked up the only thing to do was clean the place. But seeing as it was a bunch of jocks coming over and that we'd be spending most of our time outside, I figured the plalce didn't need to be spotless, just tidy. No sooner than I started tidying up however was it time to watch the Giants on Fox. Fox has really good baseball coverage in the fall leading up to their World Series coverage. So all of the good games are on Fox this time of year.

So it's probably the second or third inning and M comes home and sees me not cleaning and starts to pitch a fit. We only have a couple of hours until every comes over, why isn't the house clean, etc. I explain that I took a break to watch the game and I promise to have it cleaned by the time the gang shows up for beers and grilling. I also explain that I could witness history today so I didn't want to be very far from the TV when it happened. After 9-11, a man has to have his priorities.

That wasn't good enough.

There's a thing that happens in dysfunctional relationships where you stop listening to anything the other has to say just because you have no desire to say anything back to that person. Why listen, the rationale goes, if I myself have nothing that person wants to listen to? It's a vicious cycle. After her initial complaint, I must admit, I have no idea what she said. I'm sure it could not have been nice. But the last thing I expected was what happened next.

I was sitting back down watching the game again when she came back into the room with a bucket of cold water.

Ten seconds later, I was telling her to get out of the house. If I was going to clean the house, then I was going to clean the whole dame problem. I was going to excorcise the place. I was going to scrub it from top to bottom and get every dirty thought, every evil deed, and every single ounce of ill will out of that place starting with her.

It turns out I missed the home run. Barry didn't hit one that Saturday. He hit it in the next game. But after 9-11, I was never so sure about the importance of living one's life for the things that bring you close to one another. The alternative - watching yourself get more and more distant and seeing worthwhile relationships unravel because of circumstances within your control -- was unacceptable. It was time for me to take back my life.

Comments:

Previous story  |  Next story