I’m not ready to make nice
I’m not ready to back down
I’m still mad as hell and
I don’t have time to go round and round and round
It was the day of our anniversary. I guess the day that would have been our anniversary. Fifteen years. Two children. Two dogs. Four houses. Eight moves. Four jobs. Seventeen years together.
I was on my way out. He had dropped our son off after having dinner together. While he sat in the car in front of our building, my son struggled, with arms full, to get into the building. I helped him with the doors. Chatted briefly and turned to leave.
He was still there. Ex-beloved. I said hello and continued walking. He called me back to his car. Leaning across the arm rest, looking all handsome like he does. I apologized and said I did not realize that he needed to talk. “Well you were just going to walk by without talking to me,” he implored. I indicated towards my car and said I was on my way out and again, that I did not realize he needed to talk. He looked at me, shocked I think, that I did not want to talk to HIM.
“There is no reason why we can’t have a conversation,” he said.
“Actually, J, there are plenty of reasons.” And I walked away. Head held high. Shaking like a tree in the wind on the inside.
That night to end an email that was already in the works regarding camp for the kids, I let him know that while he likely thought me rude earlier that evening, I did not want to talk to him. And that I did not need to talk to him. Especially on that day, what would have been our anniversary. And that to add insult to injury, my gynaecologist had told me on that same day, that because of his indiscretion during our marriage, that I should be tested for all STD’s.
I have not talked to him since. That was almost 3 months ago. I have not seen him since. Thankfully I tested negative for all of my tests. And thank goodness for email.
On Thursday, my lawyer was told by his lawyer that they wanted to have a sit down meeting to hammer out the last details of our divorce agreement. I thought I was going to throw up.
I spent the better part of 24 hours feeling pressured. Feeling that I should sit down because that was what I thought I should do. How would it look if I did not want to? And then a friend said, “why would you do that to yourself?” Another friend said, “you hired a lawyer all those months ago because you did not feel strong enough to stand up to him. And while you are most definitely stronger now, it does not mean you need to sit down with him.”
I decided that I did not need or want to sit down with him in a conference room. That I had nothing to gain by doing so. And that the only reason why he wants to is so that he can manipulate me, take advantage of my feelings that he is sure still exist, and justify why he only
wants should pay spousal support for 2 years. My lawyer can deal with this. That is why I hired her.
I am trying not to be bitter. I am trying not to be sad. I am trying not to be frustrated. I am trying not to be angry. I am trying to move on.
But I’m not ready to make nice.