Tuesday, April 17, 2001

Twenty years with this woman, as lover, ex-but occasional lover, friend, living together and then apart and back again, engaged, not engaged, and engaged again and again, dancing around the altar, and then finally married for four and a half years (this past Friday the 13th would have been five), and now divorce pending. We took our vows five years ago and now only our lawyers speak for us like interpreters for emissaries from warring countries.

I am reconstructing my life. I go to therapy, read Melody Beattie, emote in my journal, go to CoDA meetings . I've even gone back to writing deeply personal poems, and now I'm Bloggering on my way down the road to recovery.

Good Friday was the day of crucifixion; mine began five years earlier when I got married. I got my condo back Monday, the day after Easter, my resurrection. Hired a locksmith, rekeyed the locks, and began cleaning up. She took all the furniture that I bought after we were married. She left me with only what I had before I married her, discounting the pain and debts. My heart is as empty as the home we once shared. And although now is the time to reclaim my life, there are ghosts in every room, in every bag of Starbucks coffee in the refrigerator, in the juice glasses she left me, in the holes in the patio screen that the cat used to climb when he was a kitten. Memories everywhere.

I had a nightmare the other night. She climbed in bed next to me and it felt good. I knew I was trapped in a dream, because the softness of her body was always an illusion that hid the evil of the sorceress, who knew my weaknesses and used them against me. Her soul burns with a dragon fire my love was unable to quench.

posted by Gary Latman 4/17/2001 11:33:37 PM