D-Day

Right after our wedding, people asked me how it felt to be married. Did I feel any different than I had the week before? There were a few superficial things that changed, like wearing a wedding ring or using the words "wife" and "husband," but other than that, there was no great dramatic change in my attitude. Being officially married didn't change how I felt about Snarkwife or our future together. The wedding was merely a formality-- putting a sticker on a bond that was already there. (Snarkwife, on the other hand, did say that if felt different to be married.)

I knew that my divorce would be finalized some time this week, because it's been exactly six months since she moved out, and her lawyer told me it would happen very soon after the six-month waiting period was over. He offered to let me know when they got a court date, but I declined, not wanting to imagine the moment when my wife would be in court testifying before a judge that our marriage was a bust. I knew the lawyer would send me the divorce papers in the mail after it was all over, and that's all I needed.

Snarkwife (she'll need a new alias soon) emailed me on Sunday to tell me that she has a court date today, Wednesday, September 17. She thought I should know. Thanks. I didn't want to know, but now I do. I don't know if she expected a response, but I didn't oblige. The only time I'm not angry at her, still, is when I don't think about what she's done over the past eight months. When she sends me emails about the divorce it makes me angry all over again. My overactive imagination wonders if she was expecting me to call her at the last minute and beg her not to go through with it. Or I wondered if she would do likewise. I didn't, and neither did she. So now there's a good chance she's sitting in court as I type, dissoluting our marriage.

Just like when we got married, I don't expect to feel any different after the divorce is final. I've been emotionally and practically divorced for months already. This is merely a formality. In a way, it's even a relief because I'm finally making good on my whining. Up to now, everything I've written about being a divorced man (see previous 40,000 words of this blog) has been a lie, or at the very least premature. I haven't been a divorced man yet. I've been a separated man.

Every once in a while all the event of the past year will come crashing down on me. I really don't know how things have come to this. Nine months ago I was happily married and now I have the big scarlet 'D' on my chest. I'm like Toby on The Office, the lonely divorced guy you're supposed to pity. He secretly pines after the cute receptionist and endures constant insults from his idiot boss about his marital status. "What do you know about conflict resolution? Your answer to everything is to get divorced."