Every now and then I feel a pang of remorse. No, really. I mean, I’m sure it’s a huge shock to you, dear readers, to hear that I sometimes experience regret, what with my entire credo being all about living in the moment and thowing caution to the wind and danger be damned and–
Oh. Sorry. I was channeling Angelina Jolie, there, for a minute. I think it might be my new leather boots. Sorry ’bout that.
Anyway. As I was saying. These pangs hit me at the oddest times, on occasion. Today I found myself regretting what was arguably the biggest decision of my adult life.
I can’t believe I felt this–much less that I’m admitting it–but today, I found myself smack-dab in the middle of some serious doubt about having divorced my husband.
It’s okay–you don’t have to hide it. You’re stunned. Understandably. Hell, I was stunned. I mean, a quick review of the last five years, and other than Monkey’s birth, I’d be hard-pressed to offer up any happy memories. I have noted (more than once) how much simpler my life is now. Only select bits and pieces have even been discussed, here, but anyone who’s been reading me for more than a week has surely gleaned that my ex and I were like water and oil, and the end was not pretty.
So, then. Why?
I’ll try to explain as best I can.
Time has passed, you know. Even the most ruffled of feathers tend to smooth out after awhile. We’re in this parenting thing together whether we like it or not, and slowly–oh so slowly–we are learning to collaborate for the Good Of The Children. Often when he brings the kids back home, he hangs around a bit and we chat. Yesterday, I offered an ear as he told me about the sudden death of a coworker, and he was genuinely pleased and supportive upon hearing about my job prospect. It was… pleasant.
This morning, I sent off a brief email to him. Two sentences. Hey, would it be possible to alter the visitation so that I can have this weekend and you’ll have the other one, instead? Let me know.
The response came back about an hour later. Imagine my delight to see that there was no argument; goodwill and accommodation abounded. Sure, that shouldn’t be a problem. Now here’s a proposed schedule to make sure everything works out even around the swapping of the weekend in question. The ex is big into fairness. So therein followed a two-page dissertation on how to split the surrounding weekends and divvy up the remaining time and make sure that his time was covered and I was not deprived of time and the children didn’t miss any important events and It! Was! Fair! And! Equitable! Spreadsheet attached. Yes.
And as I struggled through his treatise and the charting a dull ache entered my head, yes. But also–a pang of regret. A pang for what I’d given up.
Because–if we were still married–I‘d be the normal one.
Okay not to gloss over your nostalgia, but you’ve mentioned the boots twice in one week. We MUST have pics.
Uh huh. Well, that’s all nicey nice and everything…but what you should be feeling is glad…because if that Blogging for Books entry that you wrote was true (which I’m sure it was) then you know you are much better off.
Oh, I am sooooooooo jealous! Fairness and cooperation! You have my Fantasy Divorce! You have a Demilitarized Zone! You have it all, Mir.
Would you believe that around here *I* am the normal one? No? Yeah no one else does either.
I think you’re normal and that everyone has feelings like that about different situations at one time or another. I found your blog through someone else’s blog, crazy single mama i think – lol. ANYWAY, I’ve read some entries and all I kept thinking was – SHE GETS IT! LOL – I’m divorced too and newly divorced at that – divorced just three months. I can SO relate to you on so many different levels. I will say tho, the only thing that I miss about my ex husband is that I now have to make my own coffee – but I can live with that. Great post and so honest. Take care – I’ll definitely be back to read more when I’m not supposed to be working. Hugs, Nikki
Let me tell ya, you would get those pangs of regret if your X, oh, say, left you to go sleep with a 23 year old, a week before your tenth anniversary (on which you had a nice big week romantic getaway planned). Yeah, that kinda thing makes it easier. LOL
Mmmm… you said Angelina and leather in the same sentence….
I’m sorry, was there more?
Hey Mir…sounds like a momentary lapse of Stockholm Syndrome. Don’t worry. A good night’s rest should cure it.
By the way…NICE boots!
Re MetroDad: Well, that’s broken my resistance. We MUST see the boots.
Well, I’ve only considered divorce once, but we worked it out. You have to do what’s right for you, not just Monkey, because in the long run, he will be up and out of the house and what will your life be then..a spreadsheet seems a little anal to me, but what do I know?
Good luck and GREAT BLOG