The ex-files...1997 to 1998.  

TattooedWolf 48M
72 posts
6/20/2005 9:15 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

The ex-files...1997 to 1998.

“Old at heart, but I'm only 28.
And I'm much too young to let love break my heart
Young at heart, but it's getting much too late.
To find ourselves so far apart”

So we were moved in to our new house and I had my nose to the grindstone. I was working 60 hours at my regular job and another 15 to 20 hours on the weekend installing wood burning stoves and custom fireplace doors. I was bringing home anywhere from $1000 to $1400 and week and only taking my $30 for gas. That would mean I was giving my ex $4000 to $5600 a month and yet there was never any extra money. This went on for four months. Where did it all go? To this day I have no idea.

We weren’t getting along very well. I was tired from working all the time and she wanted me to work more. We would fight for days about nothing and one of us always had to get the last word in. It could be 2am…we’d be laying in bed after fighting all night and as soon as one realized the other was about to doze off, there’d be a “fuck you” thrown into the ring just to keep it going. It was sad and demented to say the least.

It was around this time that she also started going out with friends on Friday nights. I was never invited, but even if I had been I was either working or had to be up early the next morning. I just didn’t have it in me to go out. The depressing thing was is that I had resolved myself to the fact that this is how my life was going to be. If you had asked me back then what I thought marriage was, I would have given you my marriage as an example. All those jokes about married guys being miserable were true. I figured my job was to keep my head down and my mouth shut. I could not remember the last time that I had been happy.

The fight that ended it all was brought on by mayonnaise. No bullshit. The divorce catalyst was a condiment. It was one of these few nights I was going to get home early and I was jonesing for a tuna sandwich. Sounds stupid I know, but I really wanted one. I called my ex at work and asked her to pick me up a small jar of mayo. I get home, she gets home, but there’s no mayo. When I asked her if she stopped to get some, her response was ‒

“I didn’t feel like it.”

It wasn’t that she forgot, she just didn’t do it. It was a conscious decision to not pick up a jar of mayo and I was a little put off. This started out as an argument, turned into an all night “fuck you” fest and went on for three days. By the end of the third day I was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of not sleeping and tired of life. Something had to be done. I called my ex at work and asked her out for dinner. I made reservations at a restaurant we loved, took a half-day at work and did my best to smooth things over. Dinner was tense to say the least. I wanted to put things behind us and try to work things out. I couldn’t figure out how we got this far. I told her all this and all she could say was ‒

“I want a divorce.”

I have never seen anyone look so cold. There was no emotion in her eyes or voice. It was obvious she had been thinking about this for quite some time (six months to be exact, I found that out later on). I didn’t know what to say. Neither one of us finished our dinners and we drove home in silence.

This happened in March and due to financial reasons I did not move out until November. Those nine months were not the most pleasant times in my life. I was hurting badly. I knew that our relationship was not a healthy one, but no one wants to fail at their marriage. I was upset because it was ending. I was upset because I felt I had failed. I was upset because we had become another statistic. But most of all I was upset because everyone who had ever said we wouldn’t last was right. I tried to make things work over those months and she knew I was vulnerable. She would act sweet and caring one minute and then her head would spin around and out came the bitch that I knew and loved. She would antagonize me until I exploded in anger and then tell me that I hadn’t changed one bit. It was a very twisted and torturous time for me.

I remember it was my birthday. I was looking for the ATM card in her data planner and found some notes and a card from a guy. The notes were the typical “I’m lost without you, I’m only half a person when you’re not around, blah, blah, blah” crap. The card made reference to him bringing the whipped cream if she would bring the cherry. I was fucking crushed. I collapsed and my heart went into arrhythmia. I didn’t know what to do. Later on that night during an argument, I pulled out the letters and played them as my trump card. When she realized what I had in my hand, her jaw hit the floor. She screamed for me to give them back. I threw them at her and started walking out the door. She then literally dove at me and wrapped herself around my legs, begging me not to go. The woman who hated me to my core and was fucking someone else was now begging me not to leave. Go figure. Now all I want to do is leave and she will not let go of me. At this point, all I could think to do is say ‒

“If you don’t let go of me, I’ll call the cops”.

She continued her death grip.

“I’m not kidding. Let go or I will call 911”.

She didn’t budge and while I do not remember dialing the numbers, the next thing I knew Emergency Services was on the line. Looking back, it must have sounded pretty stupid hearing the following ‒

“I’m trying to leave the house and my wife won’t let me.”

Let me tell you what I learned about the police and domestic disturbance calls that night.

Police dread domestic disturbance call because they never know what they’re going to come across. Two police cars showed up in ten minutes. There was a male officer and a female officer. The male officer pulls the husband side to get his story and the female officer does the same with the wife. The male cop in my case was pretty cool. I explained to him everything that had been going on. He looked at me and said ‒

“Goddamn, that’s fucked up.”

The female officer on the other hand spent twenty minutes trying to get my ex to say that I hit her. Now I hadn’t (I’ve never raised my hand to a woman), so I had nothing to worry about. I just found it disgusting that the female cop wouldn’t accept my ex’s answer. She finally gave up and while walking past me said ‒

“If I even think you hit her I’ll arrest you.”

Now I was heated up to begin with and this woman was not helping the situation at all. I held out my hands and told her to knock herself out. Her partner stepped in and tried to get her to back off. She shot me this look and said ‒

“Do not fuck with me.”

At this point I had apparently lost all my brain functions. I know this because I have no logical explanation for what came out of my mouth next. In a very calm almost detached voice I replied ‒

“Just because you’re suffering from a case of penis envy, do not take it out on me.”

I have said some very stupid things in my life. This was in the top five. I thought her head was going to spin off. Thankfully the male cop stepped in between us and told her that he would finish this up. The male cop asked me if I had some place I could go. I left and drove around for awhile before I realized that it was late at night and really had no place I could stay. I headed back towards my house and while I was driving up my street I noticed a police car sitting in front of my house with the lights off. The cops were staking out my house. I drove around the block a few more times and tried again. This time the car was gone, but no sooner had I gotten to the front door when a police car came tearing up the hill, lights and all. It was the same female cop. She gets out of her car with a nightstick in her hand and says ‒

“I thought I told you to leave.

I told her that this was my house, I wasn’t going to leave and since no one called the police this time, she could get off my property. Her partner came up the hill at this time and made sure everything was okay. They both left shortly after and I learned two very valuable lessons that night.

1) Never underestimate the seriousness of a 911 call.
2) Never, ever tell a female cop she suffers from penis envy.

Back to the story ‒

I moved out shortly after that and twelve hours later her new boyfriend moved in. Our bed wasn’t even cold yet. It was a long, hard road out of hell and I still had the divorce to deal with. There was little communication after that. Usually I would get a phone call if something broke in the house and when I would tell her to have her boyfriend fix it, she would pitch a fit. I was still working on the weekends and since I didn’t have a garage at my new place, I kept my tools locked up in my garage. I remember one morning I was loading up my truck and her boyfriend, obviously unaware that I was there, came out of the house to go to work. When he looked up and saw me, he literally spun around on his heel and went back inside. Five minutes later they both came out. He had my ex walk him to his car. Jeez, if you’ve got the balls to fuck my wife and live in my house, at least be man enough to come outside on your own. If I’m going to give you the beating of your life, I’m going to do it whether or not she’s standing there. What a total jerk off.

The divorce hearing took place in January of 1998. It was surreal to say the least. I don’t remember feeling very much that day. I went to court, got through the hearing and then went home and got piss drunk. I was 27 and single again. A third of my life was gone and I was behind the eight ball. It took me awhile to realize that this was the best thing that could have happened to me. Sometimes you don’t always see the obvious right away.

Cool things my ex-wife did during these years ‒
- None.

Wild/erotic things my ex-wife did during these years ‒
- None.

Shitty things my ex-wife did during these years ‒
- Fucked her now husband behind my back.
- Killed my cat.
- Stole somewhere in the neighborhood of $15,000.00 from me.


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