A Minute to Myself (16)
It's Finally Over: Loaded Words


It's unfathomable how much I hate my ex-husband. The extent to which this being is depraved should be unconscionable; I should not have to acknowledge—in my own life and not just by reading about it in books and thinking oh the evil in the heart of man—how truly evil people can be. How selfish, self-absorbed, vengeful, vindictive and useless a person can be is hard to take, time after time after time after time. How can a person keep up the bile for so long, so consistently before he poisons himself just from sucking on his saliva? A 45-year-old man should be worth something beyond the meanness that creeps into the world from his presence, from his very thoughts.

What did I do? I loved. I married. I ceased loving. I divorced. Why the punishment?

I said I want a divorce. He asked to wait until he finds a job. I waited a year and a half. I said, okay, let’s get the paperwork done. He asked to wait until he passes his licensing exams. I waited six months. And then the worst housing market in decades descended. And I am stuck in the same house as this being. But that, I see now, is just the tip of the iceberg.

We did divorce; we put words on paper and signed those papers, and had them formalized in a court of law by a man in a robe. But I am stuck with an ex-husband for whom the world is just ass-wiping paper. People and their papers are simply there for him to play with, for him to transform into what will serve him. There is no parity, equity, decency. There is no humanity.

How do I live? How do I live, indeed?    



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