"The time has come the time is now…"
-Theodor Geisel
Some things are tougher than others. I never thought this would fall on the difficult side of the see-saw. I mean, closing bank accounts, that was as easy as falling off a bike. The title paperwork? A cinch. So what's the deal here? What made me feel like a third-grader waiting for his recess appointment with the class bully?
"Is there any way we can talk this out?"
It's stupid. I froze. Staring at my monitor, I couldn't hit "Delete." Yesterday was the day all employers invite the employees to take advantage of their benevolent spirit. That's right, it was health insurance renewal day. I've been waiting for this day for the last 2 months.
Still, when it came to me, the Java form, and the delete button, I couldn't remove my sole dependant. I waited a few minutes. I stared.
"Hey, isn't that a new song? I haven't heard this one. What is it?"
Finally I clicked "yes."
POOF! She was gone.
"Which program do you elect for the 2008 season?"
What made this harder than choosing 7th grade electives?
Wood shop? That'll mark me as a carpenter. What if I don't want to be a carpenter? I've set my life…
Maybe that's was it. The house was really only paper signing. I've signed my name hundreds of times. The bank account? That was just a matter of saying "close it." No fuss, no muss, but apparently a truckload of cliché. Sorry.
This was different. This was me saying "yeah, it's time. Take her off."
A weird feeling wrenched my gut, reminding me of an old girlfriend. We dated for two years. She broke up with me. She broke my heart. My rationale? "we're meant for each other." I guess I didn't study for that test. Sometimes I get all the answers wrong. It happens.
Anyway, a few months later, I ran into her and we started dating again. Maybe I thought I could get a better grade if I retook the test. Imagine my surprise when history repeated. We still hung out for a while as "friends." She had some problems, and I wanted to help her. It's what I do.
One day, while sitting in a Bob's big booth, I had a revelation. The ex-girlfriend talked; a cook prepared a hamburger; the waitress delivered it; a voice in my head repeated words I'd heard before, but could never connect in context. It said, "You can't save everybody. Not everybody wants to be saved."
I finished my burger staring at the girl I'd loved in a new light. Sopping my last ketchup smear with a fry, I listened. She backpedaled. "I don't think we should see each other anymore."
"You mean even as friends?" I held my breath.
"Yeah, I think so."
Oh thank God! "oh, ok." I'd been released from a great curse. I'd bound myself to her out of duty, now she'd released me from service. I went into the bathroom and threw up the burger. I was free.
That's how this was. Isn't that stupid? I mean I know I'm not "free," but it's like this was the first conscious choice I've made on the matter. The first time I moved forward.
A girl from work emailed me. She was checking in to see how things were. I think she and her husband are expecting a baby, but she won't tell me yet. She just says that there's a "secret." She asked about MyUnwife and reconciliation. I told her the same thing I've said all along, "Not likely, but it's in God's hands and her heart." I did add that "I'm not holding my breath, I'm moving on." I need to.
So what's that mean, "moving on?" Does it mean I'm out there dating and whooping it up (so to speak)? Hardly. It just means the place we were was a place we are no more. I need a place to call me. A place where Rob's mind doesn't contain a storage shed for MyUnwife's things.
The time has come...
After I sent in my health updates, I spent the afternoon with memories of MyUnwife. Nothing specific, just dancing snapshots. Then, after I vacuuming the bedrooms, I gave them all hugs and watched them drive off. No sad farewells, just a good bye.
Afterwards, I made myself a burger. This one I kept down.
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