D.I.V.O.R.C.E. part 2

My problem is, this time, it really hurts my heart.

I've known for weeks there was a problem. I got the phone calls. I love him as much as I do her. Or I love her as much as I do him. In my gay foppish way, I fancy myself married to him. She's the one that introduced us.

I told her long ago that I do not, would not, believe that he had cheated on her. Not in the physical sense. I can believe he's not perfect, I don't believe she is. I can believe that his actions represented something. . . going on. His changing attitude. His changing idea about . . . something yet unstated. But I would not believe he had physically cheated on her. Doesn't seem the type. But he knows his wife. She is what she is, and has been for many a year. It can't be a surprise that she's been surprised by his actions of late.

And so, in a wonderful choice of bad timing, with a house full of family and a party this weekend, she just asked last night. And her marriage ended.

I got the call at 7a.m., which was (subtle laugh) about as long as she could wait before calling. I got there at 8, and by 8:30 I pretty much knew everything. Not that there's much to know. Funny. You have years of marriage, but can describe the end of it over coffee in a few minutes. The waitress was a sweetheart. 'Take your time. The longer you wait, the less I have to work.' I tipped her extra for that. She had to have noticed my breakfast partner had been there an hour waiting. We're probably not the first to discuss divorce in that booth.

There's not much to fight about. There aren't any children. The bills are minimal. They'll have to dump a house and separate the cars and figure out how much cash goes to who. They finally will be forced to clean out the attic.

She was matter of fact. 'I can't drag him to the 'same place'.' I know she had expected to spend her life with him. I think he had probably expected the same thing, for a long time.

I wanted to cry. For the first time in a long time, I wanted cry.

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