Gut Rumbles
 

October 20, 2003

Pictures

I have a box of pictures that the BC finally gave me almost two years after our divorce. She carefully culled every picture of HERSELF out of there, which leaves me something that resembles her memory of our marriage.

It never happened.

I remember when we bought our first house and paid ourselves out of incredible debt one month at a time. I remember painting white the "Bat Cave," which was the paneled den, with two coats of Kilz and two coats of white paint. We ripped up that nasty carpet and laid down tile all the way to the kitchen. We both had turf burns on our knees after that. We drank a bottle of wine and made love on a blanket on the kitchen floor when we were finished.

She doesn't remember that. It never happened.

She wanted a baby. We started working on that project. I rented a room at the Hyatt Hotel on River Street so that we could eat, drink and be merry at the Seafood Festival without worrying about driving home afterward. She started her period that day and cried on the balcony of our hotel room as if somebody was dead. I told her that we would get it right sooner or later. I enjoyed the practice. We got it right one month later.

She doesn't remember that. It never happened.

When she was pregnant with Quinton, I made moo-cow noises at her a few times when her belly was huge. She remembers THAT. I was such an asshole. But she doesn't recall the nights I slept with my head on her belly and talked to my son while he kicked me in the face from inside of her. She doesn't remember the songs I sang to him before he was born. She doesn't remember that 4:00 AM to 8:30 PM day when Quinton was born and I was with her the entire time, THEN went out to buy her a 12-piece fish dinner from Captain D's because she didn't like hospital food.

That never happened.

She never fucked around on me, moved an unemployed dope-smoker into my house and behaved like a bloodless cunt, either.

That never happened.

A whole lot of my life never happened. I've got pictures to prove it.

Comments

What can I say? What can anybody say? Here I am, a 42 year old man, tears streaming down my face. That's cold. Man, that's cold

I'm freakin' tired of judges just assuming that females of the species are automatically the nurturing type. I'm sick to death of people assuming that just because you're born with a uterus, that you automatically have the best interest of your fetus at heart.

This has got to stop. I'd write more, but my emotions are beyond control at the moment.

Posted by: Will Coffman on October 20, 2003 12:08 PM

she will remember one day, babe. and she'll hate herself for what she threw away. voice of experience here.

Posted by: redsugar on October 20, 2003 12:48 PM

She does remember, but has built herself a wall to keep it from being active in her head. It does come back to haunt her, but just not as often as it does with you. It surely did when she took the time to pull out all those pictures of her!

Leave her to her miserable existence, for she'll pay over the rest of her lifetime. With luck and a little work on your part, you'll get on with your life and leave her behind to shrivel on her own.

Posted by: MommaBear on October 20, 2003 01:03 PM

No she won't, Red. There are those among us who operate purely on cunning and desire for that they want--never caring about what it does to others, or ever noticing that there ARE others. They are devoid of empathy--it is a cross wiring or a mental illness of some sort. But they never "discover" empathy, they simply get through life without it.

My daughter received a stack of similar photos from her sire, too. Only he'd actually taken scissors to the photos (hundreds of them) and cut me out--some where mere scraps after the defacing. He must have spent days doing it and then he shared this macabre behavior by sending the photos to a child who lives with that "cut out" woman. My daughter's reaction was a healthy, good, and appropriate one, "that is really sick, Mom."

Posted by: Mrs. du Toit on October 20, 2003 01:06 PM

All things do come full circle.

Even if she chooses not remember, does it make much of a differance at this point? It is rather odd how we remember the past and ofcourse how we skew the details.

Posted by: Anna on October 20, 2003 01:24 PM

Boo hoo, sob, sniffle. Another pity party for Rob. sniff, sniff.

Posted by: beth on October 20, 2003 01:51 PM

I've known people who actively rewrite their memories like that. Those people are really scary.

Posted by: shell on October 20, 2003 01:52 PM

What parts does she remember that in your mind never happened? Because a good marriage breaks down between two people, not just one, and with plenty of warning signals tha have to get ignored or suppressed along the way. Here, of course, I too speak from experience.

Posted by: webwench on October 20, 2003 02:01 PM

Have Faith Rob. My ex aggresively pursued legal action for years even when she lost she kept it up. A year and a half I got married again, and the second one was a grand slam. The ex and I would argue every day, brawling over things like what to tip the paperboy etc. My second wife and I argue once a year or so just to keep from getting rusty. We've been together 14 years and I still get a huge kick out of just looking at her. Just keep pickin' em up and puttin'em down one in front of the other and you'll be fine.

Posted by: Full Auto on October 20, 2003 02:42 PM

BETH - Why are you still here? Pathetic old troll.

Posted by: Anna on October 20, 2003 03:01 PM

Rob --

As long as you keep picking the scabs off old hurts, the BC will still have power over you. Let it heal and move on, man. I know you love wimmen. Just keep in mind that it's really hard to love a man who can't and won't get over the idiot who didn't deserve to have him in the first place. Makes us think you might just blame all of us for the sins of the one. (There's no upside for us in a relationship based on THAT.) And, Rob -- there's a lot about you to love. Leave the Bandaid on and don't look at this booboo for a while, okay? If you don't, that sucker wil never heal.

Posted by: Omnibus Driver on October 20, 2003 03:36 PM

Isn't it amazing how when the subject of narcissism is raised, a narcissist just pops up out of the blue? (Oh, hi Beth.)

Posted by: Juliette on October 20, 2003 05:17 PM

Omnibus
The reason that one keeps picking at scabs is cause they are there.You can know its not the the thing you should be doing but you do it anyway.The only thing thats going to make this "All better"is time.That said,The best you can hope for is that the wheels don't come off before enough time passes so that you can deal with what happened today.Each day that goes by you get better able to deal with more shit.Things that would have torn you up 3 months ago you can deal with today and 6 months from you find you deal with the same stuff much easier.
Rob I have said this to you before;Live well enjoy your life that sir is the best way to get even.
And anyone that has been dropped kicked in the crotch and doesn't wan't to get even is a lying wimp.
Pick the scabs,when you have to,for sometimes you will pick them and make them bleed,and then there will be time they will just ouse(SP)but each time what grows back will be stronger than before,scared,but stronger.
Check 6

Posted by: Airboss on October 20, 2003 05:22 PM

That sounds WAY too familiar for my tastes, geeze. I hate getting divorced more than being married, lots of finger pointing and name calling - and that's just my parents. Heh.

I sure hope my ex-wife doesn't read this.

Posted by: Neo on October 20, 2003 06:51 PM

Hey, maybe you can introduce your BC to my ex-husband. When my daughter was kidnapped and assaulted for three days in a basement, my ex told me that it was my fault - and he never even came to see his daughter. He hasn't called or asked about her since and it's been three years of doctors, hospitals, courts, etc. Some people should just die.

Posted by: heather on October 20, 2003 09:21 PM

Somewhere along the line, I learned that bad things happen to good people. Some time later, I learned that it really doesn't matter what happens to me, but how I react to it does matter. If hatred or rage are tearing my guts out, I have to work on ME, because I have no control over other people or events, especially past events. YOU MUST GET RID OF THIS ANGER. It will kill you.

Posted by: Larry on October 21, 2003 08:24 AM

fuck you, larry

Posted by: heather on October 21, 2003 06:26 PM

Does she have a Cluster B Personality Disorder? That's the kind of shit they pull ...

Posted by: Chai-rista on October 22, 2003 01:54 PM

One consolation is that, based on the pic or two I have seen, the BC resembles some lardass suburbanite you would see in pink sweats in WalMart. Rob, you are far too hot for that woman.

Posted by: dragonfly jenny on October 24, 2003 12:51 AM

Oops, I meant to sign that last one "Trailerganger." Heavily gin-enhanced Trailerganger, to be precise.

Posted by: dragonfly jenny on October 24, 2003 12:52 AM

Cool article!!!

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