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The Promise of Shadows
September 23, 2007 | permalink
My ex-wife got married a few weeks ago.
I found out about a week ago, at a bar, from a mutual friend. He let it slip because he thought I knew already. Apparently, a lot of people thought I knew. My sisters The Rockette and The Star both knew, but didn't talk to me about it because they thought I knew already, and was keeping it from them. I found that out yesterday.
I felt... weird, is the best I can come up with, about it at first. Not exactly sad, not angry or betrayed, not exactly happy for her; but some strange combination of those emotions, and maybe more besides. It was a little confusing, and I felt a little dazed, for a bit. It was truly a unique sensation, and I am not altogether sure I could describe with any fidelity.
The next morning, when I woke up, that confusing, dazing emotion was gone, and I realized that what I felt was a little bit of relief, and a little bit of lightness. For a long time after we split, we each remained the focus of the other's emotional life, only in terrible, hurtful ways. A little under a year ago, we had a civil, honest discussion for the first time in I don't know how long. There were several others after that, and it seemed to me that we had reached a truce, and maybe a little bit of understanding. We haven't spoken in months, and I didn't (and don't) expect that we will again. Our emotional lives are no longer connected, and I am glad for it.
That is not to say, Gentle Readers, that I am not happy for her; I am. I bear her no ill will. But we tore each other apart, once upon a time, and we will never be friends.
Posted in Musings & The Past & WomenThe Old Account
March 6, 2007 | permalink
I've had a couple of conversations with my Ex-Wife in the last week or so. The first one (which was initiated because of a financial matter) was really exhausting. It lasted about 40 minutes or so, and the first half was pretty much a quick re-cap of all the terrible things we did to each other. After that, though, with some of the tension relieved, it was a lot more civil and in some ways even a little nice. For a long time she was my closest friend, and I guess some remnant of that is always there. I'm not saying it was all roses and giggles, of course; far from it. But there was something... comfortable, maybe, is the right word; but then again that's not quite right... but talking to her, in a real conversation and not just a barrage of acrimonious accusations was, well, it was alright. Which is better than I thought it would be.
The second was this morning, for about ten minutes. Civil the whole time, and even more of the strange sensation of familiarity and comfort overlaid with tension and mistrust. A weird, confusing combination. This conversation was mostly about that. We haven't spoken at all in well over a year, and we haven't had a civil conversation (let alone two!) since I can't tell you when.
I don't claim to have been the perfect husband. I think anyone I have been involved with can tell you that I am overly reserved with my feelings and emotions and give an impression of indifference. And after she left, and I found out about Whats-His-Face, I was so angry and hurt, I could hardly stand it. I froze her out, eventually, rather than deal with it. Which, no matter how angry I was, was shitty; I'm not proud of how I behaved, no matter the provocation.
I don't know where I was going, Gentle Readers; I lost my train of thought. Which, I suppose, sums it up. The whole thing has been weirdly unsettling and confusing. I don't want to be with her, or indeed, even meet up for coffee... but the past is all stirred up, runnign around in my head and part of me, despite all the betrayal, actually misses her, which I find simultaneously completely understandable and completely galling.
*sigh*
I don't know how it could be any different, though, really. I'm beginning to believe that no one ever truly leaves, that once the threads of people's lives are woven together they never truly unravel completely, and the colors and patterns that they introduce stay with you, in some fashion at least, until the end. So you had better figure out a way to incorporate them and live with it.
Posted in Musings & The Past & Women(3) Comments
Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love
December 1, 2006 | permalink
I was reminded of a very embarrassing story last night, about a date gone horribly awry. I still feel a tiny bit sheepish about it, actually. So of course I will share it with you, Gentle Readers.
So, I'm on this date. I'm maybe 21. It's not our first date, but it is the first seriously romantic date that we've been on. I took her to the best restaurant I knew for a candlelit dinner. We were all dressed up, and I was trying very hard to be the perfect gentleman and make it something really special. And it was working out pretty well for me. Dinner was delicious, and I was overcoming my usual social awkwardness very well. I remember feeling like I was being especially charming and witty. Right up until after dinner, when I leaned over the table to kiss her.
At the time, I had quite the head of hair. Long and curly, down to the middle of my back, at least. And on this particular evening it was unfettered, so when I leaned over the table with the candles on it... I set my hair on fire.
I jerked back, smacking myself with my hands to put out my hair, generally creating a spectacle of myself, and most certainly breaking the mood. My date tried very hard to be gracious, but I was crushed. The whole place was dead silent, looking at us, and the stink of burned hair hovered around our table all throughout dessert. It was terrible. I wanted to sink through the floor and crawl out of there. I don't think I have ever felt like such an ass on a date as I did that night. Which, believe me, I am thankful for.
I do see the humor in it, now. But at the time... not so much.
Posted in Random & The Past & Women(2) Comments
Maybe I Should Take the Bus More Often
June 2, 2006 | permalink
I got on the Bx7 earlier this evening, headed to the Target in Riverdale. I don't usually take the bus there, since I don't really live that far away; I'd have walked, except for the rain. Anyway:
Traffic was crappy, the bus was crawling along Broadway, and I was sitting there, minding my own business, going over my shopping list in my head. There was a woman, maybe 40, sitting next to me, chatting in Spanish with a friend. I couldn't be sure, since my Spanish is pretty rudimentary, but I got the distinct impression that they were talking about me. After a couple of definite gestures toward me, I decided that there was no doubt that the woman next to me was talking about me. I didn't really mind- I was more curious to know what she was saying than anything else.
At 207 her friend got off. After a couple of minutes, the woman next to me said something to a woman a few seats away, clearly gesturing at me as she did so. I looked over at her, and then away. Then she asked me if I spoke Spanish. No, I said. She laughed and said that that was a good thing. I started to laugh.
Then she turned to me and told me that it wasn't anything bad. She said that there was something about me, and I quote, that made her want to be close to me, put her arms around me. That's what she was telling her friend. She said she was on her way home (presumably to her husband) and that she couldn't believe she was having these thoughts, but there was just something about me. She said she told the second woman that she didn't know me, but she just wanted to embrace me.
I was blushing like a schoolboy, and I think she took pity on me, changing the subject by asking me if I was headed home. We chatted, just small talk, the rest of the way to 225th Street, where I go off. She took my hand as I got up and said it was very nice to meet me. I reciprocated, and left. I was walked away I glanced back over my shoulder to see her following me with her eyes. When she saw I had seen her, I got a wave and a big smile.
I've never experienced anything like that, never been so blatantly hit on. It still seems a little surreal to me, like something from a movie. I'm blushing just sitting here thinking about it.
Posted in Musings & Random & Women(4) Comments
It Keeps Pulling Me Back In
January 8, 2006 | permalink
When I woke up this morning, I remembered that it was the anniversary of my wedding day. I mean, I knew that it was coming, but for obvious reasons I was trying not to dwell on it. And I lost track of the days, not really having any kind of set scedule this week, and I was doing a pretty good job of not dwelling on it. Until this morning. That's when I woke up, and remembered that today is the anniversary of my wedding day.
If you had asked me a few weeks ago, I would have told you that I was getting to a good place, mostly, with this. I'd been working very hard on the crap in my head, both from the divorce and from my upbringing (which of course exacerbated the problems in my marriage). I felt like I was making progress.
Let me tell you, Gentle Readers, that's all out the window. I don't know what I think or feel anymore. I spent a long time avoiding the subject of my marriage, in both word and thought; it was just too painful for me. But I had been getting to a place where I could think about the good times we had, without them being colored by how terrible things were at the end. Where I could tell stories about things that we had done together without feeling all fucked up that it was over. I was able to truly take the good and be glad that I had had so much happiness, and leave the bad behind. Now, though, I've lost the distinction. I feel like the whole ten years is just one big elaborate hoax, and I was the hoaxee. I feel adrift, like I've lost my way, my point of reference.
If one can be fooled that completely by the person that you think you know best (or, conversely, if one can fool themselves so completely to avoid the truth), then what chance is there, really, to know someone, to love someone? I feel like I don't know anything anymore.
Posted in Musings & The Past & Women(0) Comments
In Which I Can't Let Go
December 21, 2005 | permalink
I've been trying to write about my trip to my Father's, or the NYC Transit Strike, or the Sagittarian Birthday Bash that we had last night, but I can't. I am still reeling and completely undone by finding the photo of my ex-wife on the internet.
I find myself going back in my mind, questioning every detail of our time together. What else was going on? What else don't I know about? It's horrible. I feel like that whole decade of my life has been cast in a different light, and cheapened somehow.
In some ways, I feel like it's karmic retribution. I can say in all honesty that I was the best husband that I could be; but my behavior in subsequent relationships leaves something to be desired. I could make all kinds of excuses, but the truth is I was a selfish cad on more than one occasion... so maybe in some way I deserve this.
I talked to a couple of my friends about this... One said it sounded like she was more troubled than he or I ever realized and that I was better off, and shouldn't lose all faith in humanity. Another just said, 'Man, that bitch is crazy.'
There was an incident, right around the time this photo must have been taken. H came home and said that she had somehow gotten chlamydia. She accused me of sleeping around; I wasn't, and said so, gearing up for what I was sure would be a long and heated conversation. then she backed down, and told me that the doc had said that this actually was one of those things that you could get from a toilet seat, and that that was what must have happened. I remember being a little surprised at how quickly she let it go; she tended to be a bit suspicious. Anyway, I took her at her word, we took the meds, and I forgot all about it. Now I feel like a fucking idiot.
Posted in Musings & The Past & WTF!? & Women(0) Comments
On the Bliss of Ignorance
December 18, 2005 | permalink
No picture with today's post, Gentle Readers, as it is a picture which is currently messing with my head. A futile gesture, perhaps, but I find the irony very poetic.
A while ago, a friend of mine sent me a purity test, wondering how my score might compare to hers. All in good fun, I dutifully took the test (and scored more pure, to both our surprise). Ever since I have gotten emails from one of those 'adult' dating sites about once a week. You know, the kind that is supposedly full of people who just want to have one night stands with you. I never got around to taking my name off of the list... just not annoyed enough, I guess.
Anyway, I get one today, and it comes up in the preview pane of Outlook, and one of the pictures of near nude women is that of my ex-wife. (You can't see her face, but even without the tattoo on her back that I designed for her clearly visible, I would have no doubt. I was with her for ten years; I know every inch of her.) It was taken in the apartment on the Upper West Side that we used to live in, in the bedroom. From the furniture and whatnot in the background, I would say it was taken the year before we were married, or maybe just after.
Gentle Readers, I did not take this picture. I have never seen this picture before. I can't help but think the worst. I know that she was with another man at the end of our marriage. And as terrible as that was, on one level it was understandable; we were miserable, and things were horrible. But this picture is from a time when I thought that things were good, and that we were happy. Now I think maybe I was just a fool. I feel sick.
Posted in The Past & WTF!? & Women(0) Comments
In Which I Tell of a Contradiction
December 12, 2005 | permalink
Last night I went to a surprise birthday dinner for Smacktalk. Nothing big, just his close friends for dinner. It was organized by his girl, the supremely organized Babs, and held at Artisanal Fromagerie and Bistro. Delicious. You can never, in my opinion, have enough cheese.
At one point in the evening Babs and I were talking about my love life. She asked if I thought I would ever get married again. I had to think about it for a bit, but then I realized that no, I don't think I will. I took the vows I made very seriously; Indeed, I still do. I would never have left my ex-wife, no matter what had happened between us. It just wasn't an option to me. I signed up for life, and I meant it. When things were bad, those vows helped me keep going, and gave me hope that we could work together and make things better.
When she left, it was clear that she didn't feel the same way, and that she was done with our marriage. I let her go. But I don't think that the vows I made are lessened, and I don't see how I could make them again to another. Our marriage is over, and I don't believe that the bad blood between us can be diluted enough for us to be friends, even. Yet I do not feel completely free either. It's a tricky contradiction, and I'm not quite sure what to do about it.
Posted in Musings & The Past & Women(0) Comments
In Which I Give Myself a Reality Check
December 8, 2005 | permalink
I've been feeling lonely lately. My apartment feels big and empty, and I spend too much time alone. Quite often in the last weeks, as I head home on the train, I've found myself thinking about how much I miss going home to someone, and how nice it would be to have someone there to have dinner with, and talk to, and be lazy with. You know, all the stuff you get to do when you are seriously involved with someone.
Then I think, what am I, nuts? I'm a fuckin' mess. I can't be all involved with anyone for real. That would be a terrible thing to do to someone I liked that much.
Posted in Musings & Social Life & Women(0) Comments
On The A Train Incident
November 26, 2005 | permalink
I was on the subway last night, on my way home from a gig. Yesterday was the first technical rehearsal, and also the first day that the designer was in the space (up until then his assistant had been making all of the decisions). It was a long, frustrating day, and I was feeling a little dejected when I finally left.
I sat there on the train, trying to unwind (it was late enough that the train wasn't packed), shuffling through the music on my iPod, just letting my mind drift. And then...
This great bubble of crap burst out from wherever I had been hiding it, and hit me like a freight train. I'm glad I was almost home, because I was a mess. I sat there, tears running down my face, on the edge of outright bawling, the most terrible thoughts racing though my head.
I had been absent mindedly staring into the back of my iPod, looking at my own reflection. The most incredible feeling of self loathing welled up in me. And while it was bad enough to be sitting there feeling like the worst person on the face of the planet, what came next was the real killer.
If you were worth a damn, she would have stayed.
Somewhere underneath this little crisis I was having there on the A train, I could barely believe that I had heard myself right. I was stunned. The sensation was physical, like a sledgehammer to the chest. I literally couldn't breathe.
If you were worth a damn, she would have stayed.
I was completely undone. I put my face in my hands and wept. I nearly missed my stop, and was so overwhelmed that I staggered the few blocks home like a drunk. I crawled into bed and eventually slept, though I had dreams filled with longing and loneliness all night.
Posted in Musings & Women(3) Comments
In Which One of the Things That Keep Me Up at Night is Discussed
November 16, 2005 | permalink
One of the things that keeps me up at night is my ex-wife. Well, not her in the flesh, but thoughts of her, and our relationship. I was profoundly happy for a long time with her. Indeed, my wedding day is still the day that I would call the happiest of my life. I miss her terribly, even though it is nearly a year since we last spoke at all and more than two since a civil conversation occured between us. I don't believe that there is any way that we could even be friends, anymore. And yet, I miss her.
For a long time I tricked myself into believing that this was not the case; or maybe it's more accurate to say that I wanted to believe that this was not the case... because, of course, there was this huge hole in my life that I could not possibly ignore. But I couldn't cope with it either. So instead I spent a long time pretending that I could. (It didn't work out too well, in case you were wondering...)
I know that I loved her. I believe that she loved me. And yet we visited a thousand little miseries on each other over the decade that we were together. Each one by itself was nothing, a slight here or a sharp word there, hardly worth mentioning. And I truly believe that most of them were completely unintentional, actions dictated by our respective mazes. But the combined wieght of them destroyed our marriage. Sometimes at night I find one scene or another playing out again in my mind, and I can see so clearly now how we hurt each other. And this was the person I was closest to in the world, ever. I don't trust myself with other people's feelings anymore. I'm very concious of the unintentional hurt that I have dished out to the people close to me. I have, out of fear of being a wrecking ball in other people's lives, built a rather decent barrier between me and everyone else I know. I'm close to some people... but not too close.
I wonder, sometimes, if I will ever be able to surrender myself to another person to the extent that I believe is necessary for love.
Posted in Musings & Women(1) Comments
Pow! Right in the Kisser...
September 18, 2005 | permalink
You know how your brain percolates information all the time, even when you are not really aware of it? And then when it finishes with something, all of a sudden you have this new insight that pops into your head, or you see the relationship between what you thought were previously unrelated things? You know how sometimes that's no fun? Yeah, me too.
In the last couple of weeks, I have written about my grandmother's death and some of the feelings that brought up, my ex-wife, and nightmares I've had. There is a kind of vague discontent in all of the entries, taken seperately. All together, though, the discontent is a little more obvious.
The other night, after the house opened and the audience was filing into their seats at my last show (the Star Wars one), I was suddenly so depressed. It was that fast, like a kick in the gut. I couldn't figure out why; I had just completed the most difficult Fashion season I had ever had with great success. After mulling it over for a while, I realized that I was so depressed because I had just finished. Now I had nothing to do, no purpose. And that set off a landslide of connections and realizations in my head that have, quite frankly, left me reeling.
My dad is a little crazy. When I was a kid, he was even crazier. Paranoid, distrustful of other people and society at large, and as a direct result, obsessed with self-reliance. (To be fair, he did come from a horribly abusive environment; for him to be as sane as he was is an amazing feat.) He's told me more than once that when I was born, I was the only other person on the planet that he really trusted. And he did his best to instill in me what he believed were vital attitudes and skills for survival.
The first thing I was taught was to obey; without question and without hesitation. The rationale being that in an emergency, I would not give in to fear or panic, but instead do as I was told. Jump from a second story window to escape a fire, for example, or to stay perfectly still no matter what was happening around me. By four I had discipline that would make a drill seargent proud. Survival was next; by eight I could be dropped in the woods with a knife and a pack of matches and be able to find food, water, and shelter. By ten I didn't need the knife or the matches. I can set a broken bone or stitch a cut. I can make a fish hook from twigs, and a line from braided strips of green bark; not just in theory. Most of this I have had to do.
The trade off of all this... indoctrination, however, is a sense of individual identity and motivation. I realized the other night that I was trained from a very young age to be set loose on a task or set of instructions. The goal becomes everything. And because this was my father, his approval became tied in with whatever goal or task I was set at.
When I'm on a job, nothing else matters. Not sleep, not eating, not family; nothing. All there is is the job. My whole sense of self worth is tied to it. This is great for my employers- I will tear myself apart if that's what it takes to get it done. But for me, not so much. And when it's over, I've got nothing left.
I realized the other night, sitting there watching the audience file in, how pervasive this all has been in my life, how far reaching; and how blind I was to it all. My whole life, I have been happiest in the execution of a task on someone else's behalf. It doesn't matter what it is; making someone dinner or putting up a huge show- the result is the same. And outside of those instances, I feel lost and depressed. The pattern is so obvious now, but I never saw it before. No wonder I have trouble with being close to people... no wonder my wife left me. I feel like a fucking mess.
Posted in Growing Up & Musings & WomenI'm Still Living With Your Ghost
August 27, 2005 | permalink
Lately I've found myself thinking about my ex-wife. Not that I never think about her- we did spend ten years together, nearly a third of my life. But it's been a lot more than usual. I suppose partly this is because of my Grandmother's recent death; loss tends to resonate with loss. At least in my head it does.
It seems to me that everywhere I go, everything I do since I've been back in the city is somewhere we went, something we did together. It's not a particularly warm and fuzzy experience. I miss her, and part of me still wishes there was some way to reconsile; at the same time I despise myself for thinking that way. She betrayed me in every way a wife could betray her husband; and yet I still miss her, I miss what we had when it was good. The tug of war in my head between those extremes, still strong after years of seperation and divorce, makes me wonder sometimes what the future holds, relationship-wise. I've been with other women. I've been in love, even. But there is always a reservation on my part, a holding back that has ultimately led to the demise of every relationship. What happened between me and my wife broke me, and I fear to fully open up to anyone; I wonder sometimes if it will ever be right.
My brother told me once that I would never get over it, but that I could learn to live with it. I didn't believe him at the time, I thought that I could get over anything. I mean, one thing a fucked up upbringing is good for is to teach you to adapt and overcome, right? But I think now that he was right- I will never get over it. If he was right about that, then maybe he was right about the other, and I will find a way to live with it that isn't like poison. Maybe that's part of what's going on in my head right now. I hope so. Because this is getting old.
Posted in Women(2) Comments
(Continuing Adventures in Fermentation)
(Standing on the Shoulders of Giants)
(Standing on the Shoulders of Giants)
(April 2005)
(April 2005)
(Hellbound Train)