Misery Loves Company

I have a girlfriend that I will call Rowdy.  A few weeks ago, Rowdy introduced me to her older brother.  I will call Rowdy's brother CB, which stands for "Champion Beer-guzzler."  Trust me, you have never seen one 34-year-old man drink quite as much beer as CB.  You want to picture him at 300+ lbs. for all you see him put away in booze, instead of the 180-range he probably actually weighs in at.

Well, CB happened to be a successful attorney visiting from Texas. He happened to be tall, engaging, handsome, and intelligent. He happened to be single.

With visions of future sister-in-law dancing in her head, Rowdy roped me into a fishing trip with CB and a few other friends.  During said fishing trip, CB and I were (conveniently) left alone, and we had the chance to actually talk and get to know each other.  Turns out CB is divorced, under very similar circumstances.  Both of our ex's just woke up one day and said to themselves, "I think that I don't want to be married anymore..." and proceeded to earn the title of Bad-Spouse-of-the-Year in one way or another until the crap hit the fan and they finally got up the courage to throw the D-word out there.  It was so refreshing to talk with someone who has gone through divorce-hell and back and lived to tell the tale.

Since he's been back in Texas, CB and I have been e-mailing, and every day I get to see this sensitive, tender side of CB that I am guessing not many other people do.  I feel incredibly privileged to see it.  In one such e-mail, I get this from him:

"Look at it this way, the divorce is probably the worst thing that will ever happen to you in your life, and look how well you've weathered the storm.  I've always said that the measure of a man (or woman for that matter) is how they deal with adversity.  It is easy to be kind and nice when things are good.  It takes a special person to stay as sweet as you are after dealing with the garbage that was heaped on you. It clearly demonstrates that you are the bigger person."

This remark got me thinking—am I the bigger person?  Because trust me, at times, I have wished on him terrible things.  I have wanted to hire planes to fly through the sky with warnings:  "Stay away from this guy!  He is a cheating, selfish, lying bastard!"  And, if I hadn't been in such a blind rage the night I, by chance, received the picture of my ex on vacation with his home-wrecking tramp, I would have absolutely driven over to his house and beat him within an inch of his life.

Deep down, though, I know I don't hate him.  I sometimes wish that I did, but it takes too much effort to be angry or upset at him, and I used all that energy up getting over the fact that he fell out of love with me and the betrayal of it all.

Instead, I seem to have tons of energy to question and blame myself.  Did I do something wrong?  Did I make a bad decision when I married him?  CB and I both discover that we have in common the fact that we consider "people reading" one of our hidden talents.  I will quote CB again because I cannot say it better:

"Funny you say mention reading people as one of your best skills. I have always felt that, after silly accents, that was always my best talent. I really did some soul searching when I got divorced because I assumed there was something defective in my sniffer since I've always prided myself on that. I came to learn, however, that it wasn't necessarily me. I realize that some people change. ... You just have to come to the realization that you weren't wrong. The person you married either never existed or died somewhere along the way."

After divorce, you really have to keep repeating those words to yourself. I know that there are some marriages that end because they never should have married in the first place, didn't think it through, etc. But I would venture a guess that the majority end because either the husband or wife changed and started down a different path. Hopefully my people-reading skills can still be trusted. Although just in case, I have put my friends Rowdy, Chanel, and Mamasita in charge of all my decision- making when it comes to future relationships. (Funny enough, they seem to have embraced their newfound power with great excitement.)


I have to say, too, CB is sort of amazing—and he's been trying to get me to visit Texas before the school year begins. Maybe Rowdy and I will have to book a flight to Texas sometime soon....

Forever fearless,
Dumbfounded Divorcée