To this day I don’t think my ex-husband really understands went wrong with us. I know he blames me for our demise, which is so like him. He never took any responsibility for the implosion of our life. Never apologized for the financial upheaval or the emotional raking over the coals he gave me. And this not only exasperates me but it seriously chaps my hide (as the old cowboy expression goes).
In some ways it astounds me that we never got closure, never had a de-briefing of the war we waged so painfully for years and years. It’s like those years just never happened; like the good times and the bad just cancelled each other out, leaving nothing but a blank slate. This makes me wonder if I should call him up and arrange a sit down so we could lay our cards on the table once and for all. But to tell you the truth, the thought of it doesn’t make me want to reach out to him; it makes me want to reach for the Alka Seltzer.
What would happen if we did get together and engage in a round of true confessions? Would it help us ascend to higher ground if we told each other how belittled, cheated and betrayed we felt? Would this serve any purpose? Actually achieve anything? Would I feel vindicated? At peace with the whole marriage-failing thing? Would he? These are questions for which I have no answers; only suppositions. And after a while all this second guessing leads me to one place and one place only: to the medicine cabinet in search of the Alka Seltzer.
Up until now, not knowing what he really thinks has been perfectly OK with me. And any expectations I might have that a tête a tête would result in anything other than disaster is foolhardy at best. I know that. I expected so much from marriage and got so little that it was the romantic equivalent of investing my life savings with Bernie Madoff. And trying to re-coup my losses or make sense of it all would just be a big fat waste of time.
But I have to wonder: does anybody really do this? Regurgitate the contents of their emotional stomachs with their ex’s and try to figure out where it all went wrong? I think I’ll have to ask around. But in the meantime, the only thing I need to know is how many Alka Seltzers I can plop in a glass at once and how fast I can fill it with water.
I completely understand and could not have expressed it better than you; my marriage also now seems like a huge waste… decades of my life stolen. “Bernie Madoffed” indeed.
I’ve also thought I wish my ex and I could have had some closure as well, but the few conversations we had after I kicked him out were completely unsatisfactory. I realized he and I hadn’t looked at anything in our shared life the same way and we never would.
Best advice I got was accept the apology you’ll never receive. And write about it all.