My divorce was final on Wednesday. Everyone who knows has offered their love and their support and their condolences. Many folks, even my closest friends, didn’t know, and the day came and went without a big to-do. I prefer it that way. My life is very much the same today as it was last Saturday. Jed and I had been separated for nearly two years, and it’s been a long and sometimes pothole-ridden road. And yet, our relationship is better now than it has ever been. There were no attorneys. There was no fighting. There was no formal division of assets or custody battles. There was a simple document, a tad of relief, and a side of regret.
I realize, as the blog has continued through this, that I am a very private person. And that were it Jed writing a very public blog, I’d hope he would provide me (and our child) with the same discretion. When you’re in the weeds, it’s ok to talk it out. But when you’re in the weeds with someone else, some things are best kept quiet.
On Wednesday morning before the hearing, Jed called to discuss what would be asked, what was expected of us, and how shitty the day felt. And he told me a story about his brother, who years ago had to have his eye removed. His brother knew the eye was worthless, withered, and needed to be removed. Yet he said the day upon which the deed had to be done, the sadness was central. It had to go—it was time to go—but damn if he didn’t want to take the final step. It hurts.
Why did it happen, why didn’t it work? There are a lot of reasons. More than I can list. Marriage is hard. Marriage with an addict is nearly impossible. That’s my fault. Beyond that, I don’t really know. It’s a complex thing, a relationship, and it’s something that takes constant cultivation. We failed at that, but we’ve also been presented with this unique opportunity to make some sense of what remains, to cultivate something different and—in many ways—better.
So that’s it. You now know and hopefully you understand why I was close-lipped for two years. Why I didn’t overshare as I … typically do. Now let us move on, with some semblance of dignity, and know that we did our best, and that all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.
Now that San Francisco’s gone
I guess I’ll just pack it in
Wanna wash away my sins
In the presence of my friends
You and I we head back East
To find a town where we can live
Even in the half light
We can see that something’s gotta give
When we watched the markets crash
The promises we made were torn
Then my parents sent for me
From out West where I was born
Some people say
They’ve already lost
But they’re afraid to pay the cost
For what we’ve lost
Pay the cost for what we’ve lost
Though we knew this day would come
Still it took us by surprise
In this town where I was born
I now see through a dead man’s eyes
– Arcade Fire