I've held off writing about this topic for quite a while now. Many people are already aware of it, but some have unfortunately been left in the dark. It is the sad reality that Susan and I are no longer married. The divorce was final as of Tuesday.
We had been going through some serious issues concerning personal differences, family incompatibilities, and increasingly different individual life goals. Throughout my life, I had lived with the understanding that marriage is a one-time deal, and I believed that it is the responsibility of the couple to work through the inevitable difficulties of marriage even when those difficulties seem unscalable. What I was not prepared for, however, was a marriage in which these beliefs were not necessarily shared. Yes, the writing was on the wall well before the wedding, but I (the stubborn bastard that I am) chose to ignore it. This of course places a chunk of the blame for this situation squarely on my shoulders, although the size of the chunk is still up in the air.
My current state of ambivalence probably comes from sensing pieces of the general attitude from the "other side": hearing descriptions of divorce as being a relief...receiving an unnecessary angry and irrational phone call from an in-law...rushing the whole process at an uncomfortably speedy place. And here I am, more or less in stunned silence, feeling like I've just sat through some sort of emotional drive-by.
Of the 28 years that I've spent so far on this planet, five have been with Susan, and almost two of those five have been in matrimony. I'm guessing that the completion of this process is a reason for celebration for some; Susan had been miserable for a long time and now she can finally be free from the bonds. Perhaps her family is sitting around now, talking about me, joking and telling stories. At least that's my guess.
There's so much to talk about, so many emotions to release, so much confusion and bewilderment. The one remnant that will remain — at least for the time being — is the name, as my now ex-wife (what a dirty sounding term that is) will hold on to "Dowling." She feels that it works a little better than her maiden name, which I suppose is fair enough since everyone is free to call themselves what they want. But I have to admit that it feels a little strange.
The reality of the situation is that I have to go on with my life. For whatever reason, it will be more difficult for me than it was for her, and that's fine. Ultimately, I've learned many lessons about myself and what I need in a relationship. I've learned that a good relationship is an interactive relationship, and not just within the couple but within an entire ecological system. Every couple needs to work on their relationships with each other, with themselves, with their parents, friends, coworkers, neighbors, community, God (or other representation of spiritual beliefs, as applicable), and whoever else plays a part in their individual and collective lives. It's not enough to talk the talk (if I may cliche this up a bit), but it is so absolutely necessary to walk the walk. This should be easy; no one wants to look like a hypocrite.
In conclusion, I've learned, I've loved, I've laughed, I've cried, I've come back wounded but slightly stronger. It's a close call, but I think I can take away enough from my experiences to avoid regret. Just gotta keep on truckin'.
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