Strange rambling, and a little creative thought and a little role play today… but I suspect, not too far from the truth.
Be Nice to your Mother… You are the Mother of my Children.. Two phrases that let me know that my marriage was over.
The first was a foreboding warning that I, meaning dad, will not always be here. I want YOU, my kids to hear me say that, but more importantly, I want Virginia, to hear me say that, because I don’t know what else to say. I am about to leave my family. I am about to leave with little warning and a lot of piss poor behavior. I admitted it later to her sister, but it was far too late. I am a stubborn bastard, and I know it. I stand by my decision, because to do otherwise, suggests that I might be in need of some intensive therapy to find out how I could have been so hurtful.
The second phrase, which I recently heard again, on the amazing, starkly realistic Showtime Series The Affair, suggests the following: Yes, you are the mother of my children, but no more. Because of that role, you deserve some yet to be defined respect and place in my life, but not a place in my bed. I have moved on, and with me, I take my emotional connection to you. I suggest that you find a way to move on as well. I know I left you three children to raise, but you are YOU. You will find a way.
You are the mother of my children… It is by some long ago physical act that put those children in your belly. I can’t explain it to you, MOMC ( Shortened Mother of My Children ), but the feelings that once allowed me to perform that act with you are no longer there. Sorry, things change. In spite of our promises to each other, I am not quite able to try to put things right.
The world makes this OK… I am now older and distinguished, but you, oh MOMC, have made your choices to be that mom, and you are so good at it, but along the way, I found that I am still attractive to women who used to be like you- hungry for a future with me. Maybe it is survival of the species… that I continue to create children, and women raise them. I don’t know. All I know is how I feel. I don’t want to hear about what’s right.
MOMC, it’s not personal. I don’t dislike you; I don’t hate you. I just can no longer see you the same way through my eyes. Every once in a while, when I see that you have made that effort again, to look special for some event for the children, I get a tugging somewhere, and I wonder if I have done something bad. I look away quickly, and hope you don’t notice the second glance I gave you.
( Don’t worry, I noticed, you piece of crap. None of this is for you; its called self respect. I may walk around the house, like the MOYC, but the world sees me differently than you do, thankfully. So, Fuck off, and look away before I cry.)
I look away, as quickly as possible, and go home to my new family, and my new child…. It’s funny. New wife says a lot of the same things about me that MOMC did when we were married. Maybe some of them are true….Maybe not. I think it’s just women and men see things differently. Strange though, she looks a little plainer than she did when we first met… maybe its because she put on a few pounds…. Well, she IS the Mother of my youngest child….