A Post-postscript Karen Interaction

Karen at the ACE

Karen at the ACE

Although it occurred last June, I did run into Karen one more time. In my fevered imagination, she’d be single and open to dating. In one of the convolutions and permutations of my old obsession with her, I imagined that, even were she pregnant, she’d be single, and I could convince her that I’d be a good dad to her baby, or even that she was a single mom, and we’d hook up, whereupon we’d subsequently live together, probably in marriage. Such was the depth of my obsession that I always imagined there was some slim chance that we’d still get together.

Now, of course, I know there is no such chance, ever. I saw her, spoke with her, was dissed by her. She’s an ass, really. I was taking photos at the Albuquerque Comic Exposition last year, and saw someone in my viewfinder that looked like her. I think I’d recognise her profile anywhere, under any circumstances. She was standing near a booth in a crowd. I snapped a couple of quick, badly focused long shots. I think she saw me, but she moved away. I saw where she was going and circled around the area, so that I would be walking directly into her as I came around a line of booths. It worked. I walked directly at her as I came around. At first, she gave me her nod, the nod that says: “I know you. I see you, but there is no need to speak to each other.” Fat chance of that. I walked right up face to face and said hello. She was polite. I asked her if she still worked at the medical school (where we used to see each other). She said: “Yes, but that may change soon.” I asked: “Why? are you going back to school or something?” She said: “No.” It seemed she glanced down because my eyes traveled to her stomach. She appeared to have gained weight since I last saw her, both in the face and in her abdomen. I was trying to think of what to say, not sure what she was hinting at, when she just turned and walked away, right to a nearby booth she had already been to and chatted up the proprietor. Rude, but effective. She really doesn’t want to ever have anything more to do with me, never talk, or be friends or acknowledge my existence, really.

That settled that fantasy.

But, I did realize what she meant: she is pregnant. There’s no mistaking that bulge. That would explain why she’d leave a good job in an uncertain job market. Whether she married or is still living at home I have no idea. I suspect she has a husband to support her when she quits work.  I’d have asked her, if she’d paused long enough, but she was in a hurry to get away from me. I would have congratulated her on her pregnancy. I know how much she likes kids, and I remember how much time she would spend with her nieces and nephew. She loved reading to them and playing with them and taking them places. I knew she’d make a good mother. I dreamt so often of impregnating her myself, of being the father of a kid or two with her. In my mind, it would have been heavenly. I’d have adopted a kid with her, since she often spoke of adoption. Such deluded fantasies I used to have! Oh, well.

At least I can shut down the little loop in my mind that still entertained the possibility of hooking up with her after a random meeting.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Fuck you Karen. I hope I never run into you ever again, or hear anything about you.



Preface/Postscript to Love & Other Madness

You may have noticed that I no longer use this blog as my sounding board. 

It began as a place for me to sound off about the weirdness in my life.

My marriage  was failing, and my step-daughter Maya  had just undergone treatment for a brain tumor. I felt that I still loved my wife Linda, but she had become almost impossible to live with since her daughter had been diagnosed with the tumor. I say this now, but at the time, I simply couldn’t understand her coldness to me. She was depressed, of course, about Maya’s illness, and feared she was going to die. Even after Maya was operated on, experienced the hell of chemotherapy, and then had been through radiation treatments, Linda continued to be depressed and refused counseling. She believed that Maya would die. She drove me and Maya crazy with her obsession with that, despite the fact that Maya had survived and was found to be free of cancer. Her cancer had been an extremely rare brain tumor, one that had not spread to other parts of her body, and Maya’s blood and spinal fluid were free of any cancer cells. In short, there was every reason for optimism, but Linda would not let her fear go.

I learned, through the experience, that I loved Maya fiercely. I had lived with her about 13 years as she grew from girl  to woman,  and I had been shocked and scared as well that we would lose her. It was this possibility that Maya would die that hit me over the head with the fact that I loved her dearly. I hadn’t thought about it before. It was new to me that, (1.) I loved someone else besides my wife, and (2.) it was an unconditional love for another human being, and (3. ) she might die, and (4.) I didn’t want her to die. After she began treatment, I relaxed.  It looked as though she would survive. I felt something new: joy, joy that she would survive. I had been so depressed at the prospect that Maya could die, that the idea that she would not die came as the purest feeling of happiness I’d ever experienced. Up until that epiphany, I had never known such a feeling existed in reality.

In fact, I had been unhappy. Life with Linda had become difficult. Her negativity, her constant put downs, and her coldness were not new. She had been that way all along, and I simply didn’t care. I loved her, so I made excuses for her abusive behavior and her lack of human warmth and kindness to me. I was making do. During sex with her I felt closest to her, but sex was not something she cared much for. It was as though she allowed me to have sex as her duty as a wife. It was not something important to her. I had known passion with other women in the past. I loved Linda passionately, I felt, but she did not, could not, respond in kind. Such is life. I became accustomed to that, but I felt trapped. I wanted more from life. I was willing to accept that Linda gave me all she could, and my love for her was enough. Sometimes I felt that I deserved no better than that.

However, one day, when Linda roughly pushed me away, again, when I touched her, I made a decision, a decision based on years of being pushed away, without explanation or gentleness: I was no longer going to stay committed to monogamy. This was the one relationship I’d had where I had actually felt monogamous. I hadn’t wanted other women. Other women were pretty, but not sexually attractive to me. My life before this marriage had been one in which I was always seeing or meeting women I felt physically attracted to. Being in love with Linda, I found her to be the only woman I wanted to be with. Now, I was tired of longing for her and being rejected over and over. I could have tolerated little or no sex if she had been respectful of me, of my opinions, my feelings, my hobbies. She was not. If she had given me any comfort at all during Maya’s illness, I’d have been happy. If she would have touched me sometimes, with a caress, or hug, or a warm kiss, I’d have stayed happy. But, there was none of that. I’d begun to feel as though I existed in her life only to provide entertainment, and pay the bills.

Having made this decision that I was open to other women, I began to notice the women at work, and notice that I could be attracted to other women than Linda. I spoke with a woman who worked in the department office, and found her appealing. Her accent and manner reminded me a bit of my brother Pat’s Texas wife, who he is now divorced from. She was very pretty. I lightly flirted with her, but she didn’t appear to be interested, although she was single and quite friendly. One day, at an office Xmas party, I was introduced to a young woman who worked part-time in the department: Karen.

Karen and I hit it off right away, discovering that we had an unusual but strong affection for a science fiction TV show,  Babylon 5. Trekkies didn’t seem to like it much, and although we had both been interested in Star Trek at one time, we had both been much more fascinated with the Babylon 5 universe created by J. Michael Straczynski. Karen pointed out articles and blogs by Straczynski, which showed that his politics and beliefs heavily influenced the show, and that those politics and beliefs were the same ones held by Karen and myself. This was beyond belief to me at first. I’d had never met anyone like her.

Over time we discovered a mutual admiration for certain science fiction authors, of the characterization in Marvel Comics, of Japanese Anime, and a love of peace, and justice. I came to believe Karen was like a soul mate to me, trite as that phrase is now. I fell in love with her. I desired her intensely. I lusted for her. She is quite sexy. Two major problems: (1.) I was married, and (2.) I was much older than her. At first, I was not that interested in Karen except as a friend; she was just too young. Over time, I decided, self indulgently, that I didn’t care about her age. She was in her middle 20’s and quite old enough for me after all. I found that, although I felt I still loved my wife, I wanted Karen. I loved her too. Initially I wanted both women; something very selfish, and very impossible. Karen made it clear she wasn’t like that. She would never be a married man’s lover. (In theory, since we rarely talked about anything personal). In fact she did not want to know anything about my wife, or hear me speak of her at all. I wondered about that; in my delirium, I thought it meant she was jealous of my married life, perhaps of my wife. I hoped it meant she cared for me. However, she never wanted to meet except  for lunch. Lunches with Karen became very exciting for me.

If you’ve read the entries in this blog, you know that things got worse and worse for me. Linda and I divorced. I briefly hoped that an obstacle to at least dating Karen was gone, but no, Karen told me that even going to a movie together (Silver Surfer) that we had both planned to see was like a date, and a date was inappropriate. After that, our relationship (we had been eating lunch together every Friday for about four years) deteriorated. She was more and more often busy, and just didn’t have time for me as often anymore. Our lunches became rare and awkward, and pretty much stopped. Between Karen and my divorce from Linda, I was often sad, and becoming more depressed by the day. My job no longer gave me any satisfaction, and I wanted out. The divorce had resulted in my loss of the house I had jointly owned, and all the money and time I had put into it. I had previously sold my own house, paying off debts Linda and I had accumulated, so I didn’t think I could retire, as I had no money left to buy another house of my own. I had been close to paying off the house Linda and I owned, but she got the house and I got to keep my pension. After two years, and giving it a lot of  thought, I said: “Fuck it,” and I retired anyway.

I didn’t see my ex-wife again for four years, and I never saw Karen again. I came to understand that Karen may well have been a substitute Linda, for one thing, in that I hoped to have my feelings for Linda reciprocated from Karen. I may have simply transferred my feelings for Linda over to Karen. But, there is an odder possibility that I spent much thought upon. Since Karen was just slightly older than my step-daughter Maya, and initially there was the possibility that Maya could die, perhaps I unconsciously began to substitute Karen for Maya? What that said about my feelings for Maya troubled me, but I came to believe that I wanted Karen more than anyone in the world, that I would die for her, that I would do anything for her, and she was all I ever wanted in the world anymore. It was, I believe, a psychological illness. I was loony tunes, out of my head (well, trapped in my head to be accurate). I no longer had any anchor to reality. Impossible things seemed possible, and the possible seemed false and unreal. I spiraled into a deep depression, and I really did want to die. There just didn’t seem to be any reason to live any more.

It took some time, some brief counseling, and a bit of antidepressant, but I lost all interest in Karen; I can no longer believe I was ever interested in her. It shocks me to think I thought I loved her. I loved my ex-wife Linda, and still do. I love my step-daughter Maya. Nothing else ever mattered; nothing else matters now. I have tried dating, but without success. A woman I used to hike with was very nice to me, but the relationship never went anywhere, and appears to have died out. I was initially extremely lonely and often horny, but all that seems to have faded away now.  I do not find most women attractive. Recently I found myself interested in another young woman, a model I took photographs of,  but that was brief, stupid and doomed to failure, for the same reasons my relationship with Karen was never going to go anywhere.

I once wrote, in the short story, The Boy Who Rode His Bicycle Into Manhood, that I spent the rest of my life simply walking the ditches around my neighborhood, reflecting on my life, and never interacting in any meaningful way with another human being ever again. It seems that pessimistic and depressing ending of my story is actually coming true! That is my life now, although it is not as depressing as I thought then. It just is.

What prompted this sudden return to this blog? I went to a salsa concert the other night.Salsa Albuquerque  I was enjoying the music, and watching the dancers, and then Linda walked in. A friend of hers recently moved here and they share our old house, so they came together. I think they both saw me, but neither acknowledged it. They looked in my direction when I was the only one in that direction (up on the balcony above their heads).  I was shocked to see Linda, and that she looked really good to me. I considered going over to where the two sat down, and asking Linda, or her friend, who I had been friendly with, to dance. But then I saw Linda dancing with someone, and having a great time. It reminded me of how much we loved salsa dancing and how often we went: usually once a week, but sometimes twice a week, and for most of the 14 years that we had been together. It wasn’t unusual for Linda to dance with other men at the club we went to. Most were friends she had danced with before meeting me, and other times she just liked to dance with the experts. That’s the way things are in these salsa clubs and dances. Even if people come with a date, everyone dances with everyone else. A man usually asks a woman’s date or husband for permission first, and after a few times it is understood without asking.

So, I was not jealous seeing Linda dance with another man the other night. It was a feeling of sadness, terrible sadness, that I was no longer part of her life, that I could never dance with her again. My feelings so overwhelmed me that I stayed rooted to one spot for an hour. Then, I considered jumping off the balcony. Obviously I didn’t. I never asked anyone to dance, never went over to Linda and her friend to say hello. I just listened to the music, watched the other dancers, and drank three beers. I am not part of Linda’s life and can never be again. We could not live together anymore anyway, but my desire for her is no less, after four long years of sobriety, soliloquy, and solitariness. Oh, well. That is most certainly the way life can turn out. I had a good run. I stay busy these days, hiking in the mountains, reading, watching old movies, and helping make wine at a local winery. All of it distracts me from my sadness for brief amounts of time, so I’m optimistic that I will actually find happiness in just living again. I used to want passion in my life; now, I would just like a reason to live. Love & Other Madness was a small slice of my life, a time when I slipped the bounds of reality and dared to dream of greater happiness and passion. In so doing, I lost everything I cared about. I make the motions now, do things, talk with people, get some exercise. It’s my reality.

Victim of a Dream

’nuff said. The past is over. Time to move on. 56 pills now. Two a day for how long? What to expect? Feelings? Enthusiasm for life? A good night’s sleep?  Any of those would be good.  I’m a patient man.


(image by ‘Nonnetta)

Madness Made Personal

silence No word from Karen lately.  My heart is cold and empty.  I haven’t heard from her since Friday the 13th.  I sent her an email after we had lunch, wishing her a lucky Friday the Thirteenth, since she likes those movies so much.  No response, but I wouldn’t have expected one.  It’s pretty rare when she responds to anything, unless it has to do with lunch.  She is very busy these days, and often out of the office, so even the people at the cafeteria haven’t seen her there much lately.  They know her; she’s very friendly to them all, and wishes them a good weekend on Fridays.  She almost always gets a Frito Pie like I do, so they know her as a regular for those delicious things.  She gets hers with beef; I get mine with chicken.  I went last Friday, even though she didn’t respond to my email, but didn’t see her.  No response today either, and a no show.  In fact, I checked the status of the email I sent today, and it was delivered, but not opened.  However, if she opened it with her cell phone, the University’s email system wouldn’t know.  That often happens when I communicate with Philip in the lab, so I never know if he got my emails saying I’d be late, or not coming in. Since he never checks the phone messages, I have to send emails.  He always gets them, but the system doesn’t show it.

So, Karen could have read it, or seen that it was from me and ignored it.  On Friday the 13th she deleted the message I sent right away and purged it right away.  No big deal. She might have been away today; she might respond Monday.

Last weekend I sent an email to her hotmail account.  She used to forward interesting stories to me from that email, so that’s why I have it.  I’ve almost given up sending or forwarding anything to that account, since she never responds.  I even asked her if she still used the account, and, “Yes,” she said,  it’s still her main email account.   She could have decided to block emails from me a long time ago, after I practically begged her to come visit me, and even confessed one time that I kept trying to find something we could do together that wasn’t like a date, (and therefore inappropriate).  She did get that one, I think, because she was mad afterwards, and said something about “people’s” inappropriate behavior. She never tells me anything right out, except in direct face-to-face response to a request to meet  for dinner after work or see a movie, and those, she said, would be like a date.  So, I’ve stopped asking.  However, I did ask her, via email one day, if she had seen Changeling.   It’s written by J. Michael Straczynski, and she’ll read or see anything of his.  She responded, in her typical wordy fashion: “Not Yet.”  Then again, ‘The Changeling‘ is the name of a horror film from 1980, so maybe she thought I meant that?  She much prefers movies like that.  Perhaps the Clint Eastwood-directed movie with Angelina Jolie is not her style? No, she stays current on everything Straczynski does, so it has to be that one.  She probably already saw the horror movie.  Actually, the whole idea of a changeling is centuries old; the belief that a baby was switched at birth  and a demon substituted, as in: changeling_large – from 1780.

So I rented it from Netflix; it had been in my queue for months, and was finally available.  She won’t let me lend her a Netflix movie after I’ve watched it.  She thinks that is improper somehow, even though the movies aren’t checked out just for me to watch by myself only.  I can’t imagine they care if someone else watches it, even if it’s not in my home with me.  She won’t do it.  So, I had the movie; it had arrived on Thursday afternoon and I hadn’t had a chance to watch it. I sent an email to her hotmail account, asking her to come watch it with me.  I said I’d wait until 7:00 pm, but if she needed to come earlier or later, that was OK, but to let me know if she was coming later.  I even said I’d wait until Saturday or Sunday if she liked.  No response.  In fact, I gave up on the whole idea of watching it.  I sat on it all week, hoping to see her today, ask her in person, but she wasn’t there.  I didn’t send an email this time.  Not much point.  I still wish we could be such friends, at least, as would watch a movie together.  I don’t know why I feel so attached to her.


I received a note in Facebook from an old friend of the Dragon.  She has known the Dragon since childhood in LA.  She asked how I was doing, and I wrote to her.  I told her that my step-daughter had heard her mother tell someone on the phone that we split up because I told her I didn’t love her.  Fucking unbelievable!  I never said such a thing.  I assumed that the Dragon heard me say, “I didn’t call her while she was away, because I didn’t miss her,” and she heard that to mean I didn’t love her. No, not the case.  Apparently, the Dragon told her old friend that I specifically told her I didn’t love her, and she threw it in my face, saying, for instance, “Why would I want to go with someone who doesn’t love me?”  And, since I didn’t contradict her, it must have been true.  Bizarre!  The actual words she used were, “Why would I want to go (as in travel) with someone who doesn’t want to be with me?”  A little different, but we’d already been over that, and she was yelling it at me, and my step-daughter was right there, so I wanted to avoid upsetting her any more than necessary.  There was nothing I could say.  I told her I did want to drive with her, but she was having none of it.  Later on, she called me from LA, wanting to know why I was using HER daughter as a messenger.  And, how DARE I say anything to her at all? My wonderful step-daughter had tired to tell her mom that I still loved her, which is what I had told her, and, I had not asked her to say anything to her mother.  The Dragon roared, screaming in my ear, and accused me of being a liar, and a terrible husband, and cheap, and stingy, and I had to hang up.  She called back to tell me that half of everything I had was hers.  She had noticed that I’d written her a check for half of the IRS refund, as was our custom, and she said I was already splitting everything up for a divorce.  She would not listen to me at all.

dragon1 It”ll be two years in May since this happened.  I went into the details in earlier posts back then, so no need to rehash it.  The interesting thing is that the Dragon is telling people I actually told her I didn’t love her, when I was telling everyone who would listen that I did.    So, the entire thing could be a result of miscommunication?   She often did that anyway.  Her hearing is bad, even when I’m looking directly at her and speak clearly.  She’ll tell me I said something else entirely, and insist that I’m lying, and I hate being told I’m a liar. It always made me mad.  I couldn’t help it. I would try to show her how she might have misunderstood or not heard right, but since she’s never wrong, she couldn’t even admit the possibility.  In her mind I change my story later, even when there’s no benefit to me to do so.

Now, I’m supposed to have not retracted my statement about not loving her (and she is supposed to have given me a chance to), and to have not fought for her, when she wasn’t talking to me at all, and locked herself in a bedroom and stayed on the phone non-stop night after night for three weeks.  She would glare at me like a child and not speak, and then finally said I had to leave or she’d call the police, say her life was in danger.  Turns out that people do that, and I would have been forced out, and later on there’d be a hearing, but by then I’d be out of the house living somewhere else, and why would I want to go back then?  (When she finally spoke, it was only to get the house for herself.)

So, I didn’t think there was much to say.  As I expected, I am the villain – it was all my fault, and everything I ever said was a lie.

I don’t know what to think anymore.  Is she crazy as a loon too, or is it just me?

Applicable Image

Silence from Karen; but life gets stranger yet

February 20, 2008

red-tulip.jpg No word from Karen on whether she liked the flowers, or if that pissed her off. Oh, well. Saw her Monday waiting for an elevator by the coffee cart. The line for coffee was long, so I opted out of waiting. Wanted to go over and say Hi! to Karen, but felt oddly nervous, and left without going over. I had wanted her to have time to forget the flowers before I saw her again, assuming that it was a bad thing to have done. She sure keeps me guessing.

Sunday was interesting. I ran into my ex-girlfriend Elaine from 30 years ago, at the Flying Star across from where I live. Happened to sit right down behind her and recognized her voice. She was enthusiastically happy to see me. She was eating breakfast with a friend. Turns out she is divorced from her last husband. She had discovered that he was seeing other women (plural), and kicked him out. That’s four husbands she’s been through, not counting the unlicensed pagan marriage we had together in between husband #1 and husband #2. She says she’s not good at picking men. Duh! She still looks pretty good. A little surgery, hair dye, and peroxide-whitened teeth helps with that, but overall, not bad. She said she’d gone into a long depression after her divorce, for years! Reminded me of the depression I went into after she left me for husband #2. Can’t say I’ve really forgiven her for that. forgiveness.jpg

Anyway, I asked her and her friend if they wanted to come see my place, but her friend begged off. Elaine came over. She said it is a nice place. Finally someone has come by to see it. I was walking her back to her car when we ran into Benay, the woman I hooked up with after Elaine dumped me, who lives in this same compound. That was weird too, but they knew each other and talked a bit. When we got to her car Elaine asked me to come with her to see something, so I went. She took me to see a house she fell in love with. It’s not for sale. She was looking for houses at one time and chanced upon it. It’s not fancy or anything, but it has a view of the Sandia mountains that is totally unobstructed. Of course, many of the homes in that neighborhood have views like that, but she has a feeling about this one. They are fairly new, so I said, “Maybe you’d been here before they were built.” She said maybe in a past life. She’s still into that. She parked and told me some of her recent life, the divorce, the depression. Then she took me to her house. I’d been there before. When I was married (legally) the first time, my wife Irene had invited Elaine to my college graduation party. That was weird. What was stranger though, was that Elaine then invited us to her place with husband #3. We went back and forth like that for awhile, until one day my wife and I had a huge fight, and one of the main topics was Elaine! Irene said I had been sitting too close to Elaine; said there was something going on; accused me of wanting to get Elaine back. I got mad, and we divorced shortly after that.

I hadn’t seen Elaine since then. I’ve talked with Irene, since then, and we get along OK now, but she has a long-term (14-year) relationship, so we don’t get together.

Elaine made us a couple cappuccinos miniespresso.jpg and we talked a bit, until she suddenly asked me if I knew the secret. Turns out there is an organization that promotes the idea that positive thoughts can lead to a happy life full of love and wealth or whatever you want, and they call it “The Secret”, which is based on a book of the same name written by Rhonda Bryne, a friend of Oprah. the-true-secret-1.jpg She dragged out a video for me to watch. Lots of common sense, celebrity interviews, and testimony to the wealth and life-changing results of thinking about what you want, not what you don’t want. Apparently there is “scientific” evidence to back up the idea that your thoughts go out into the world and influence things. Lost me there. It is of course common sense that a positive attitude helps you focus on a goal, and having a goal in mind helps one reach that goal. This is just a rehashing of a book called The Science of Getting Rich by Wallace Wattles written in 1919. gettingrich.jpg Wattles promoted what he called “The Law of Attraction.” The Law of Attraction states that by the power of positive thinking you can achieve anything and have everything you always wanted. You can be rich just by thinking the right thoughts. Bryne picks up the Law of Attraction in The Secret. This group, based on the book, has that same cult-like appeal as the last one Elaine subscribed to, the chanting people. The belief of that group is that one can chant every day, not just for relaxation and inner peace, but to get what you want from life: money, cars, love, fame, whatever you want. I asked her, “What happened to the chanting?” and she said the group folded up after 9-11. I don’t think there was any connection between the chanting organization and Islam, but a connection was drawn in people’s minds and the organization’s power faded. So now, it’s “The Secret.” Same thing, without the chanting. She is pretty excited about it, and tries to change her life by thinking thoughts of what it is she wants. Doesn’t seem to be working just yet. The guy who got rich off of all those Chicken Soup for the Soul, etc, etc, etc. books is helping promote The Secret. chicken-soup-for-the-soul.jpg

I got out of there as soon as I could, as I was dependent on her to drive me back to my house. Her place is overrun by animals, at least two dogs, and eight or nine cats, so her carpeting reeks of animal urine, pet food and hair. She says she has plans to replace it with saltillo tile. She also has plans to renovate other parts of the house, and replace her bathroom sink, which needs a washer real bad right now. I’d have offered to do that, but I don’t want to get back into being Mr. Fix-it just yet. I’m not sure about her either. She says it would be nice to meet for dinner some times. She doesn’t want another marriage or live-in relationship, but something like having dinner once in a while would be nice. I said sure, but we didn’t make a specific plan.

I mentioned this meeting up with Elaine in an email to my ex-wife Irene the next day. Irene had emailed me, telling me her son was getting married for the second time. As soon as I told her that Elaine had been depressed and that Elaine had said she’d like to get together for dinner or drinks, Irene said we should all three of us get together. As odd as that seems, I agreed. We’re trying to work out the place. Irene suggested a restaurant downtown, or a place that has mariachis and margaritas; I suggested my house for crab cakes, oldbaycrabcake.jpg and she said she could bring margaritas. mixingmargaritas.jpg I am oddly interested in having this happen, but Elaine has not responded to my emails yet. I’ll have to call her and see what’s up.

Ah! All communications finished. Irene and Elaine will both come by for dinner Friday evening. Stay tuned.


Divorce is anti-climactic

Sept. 05, 2007


Calling me a cheap, stingy bastard wounded it cheep-stingy-bastard.png
telling me I was planning to leave cut deeper
calling me a liar was nearly fatal bloodyrose.jpg
saying we should go our separate ways stopped its heart


I was willing to try resuscitation through counseling
your refusal staked it through its heart heartcake.jpg
asking for a quit-claim to the house put it in a coffin
solid-wood-coffins.jpg telling me I had to leave nailed the coffin shut
threatening to call the police if I didn’t move out –
buried the marriage deep in the ground.buried.jpg

Divorce is anti-climactic.

– © tm August 2007