It would seem that I have developed something of a text message dependancy.  6 months ago I almost never used the txt messaging option of my phone. Hell, I hardly ever used my phone. The only person I ever really talked to on it was my wife, Colleen. In fact, that was the reason I got a cell phone in the first place, when Colleen was pregnant with our daughter, so she could contact me anywhere when she went into labor. As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary — Colleen was induced after she’d gone past her due date. But I kept the phone. I’m not sure I’ve heard of anyone giving up their cell once they’d gotten one, even those who swore they never would, like myself.

Back to my original point: I txt a lot now. So much so that we changed our phone plane. Yes, though separated, Colleen and I are still on the same phone plan. Is that strange or unusual? Got me.  It is what it is. I probably txt my cousin in Iowa the most, but the majority of our txts are of the juvenile variety, ie ham jokes. It’s too complicate, and a bit twisted, to explain. Just accept it. Colleen is the person I txt most after that. In fact, we txt more now than we ever did before, but then we were living in the same house, and yet we seemed to communicated far less than we do now.  In many ways, although not all, our relationship is better than it was before the separation. Often it doesn’t seem like we’re not a couple anymore, that we’re not a family anymore. It’s almost as if we’ve somehow entered our bizzarro relationship. I don’t know. It’s late and I spent three hours in the dentist chair getting fitted for two — count ’em — two crowns. I’m still slighty out of it.

I find txting to be helpful in a way, although it is difficult to describe how exactly. A friend on facebook gave me her number and told me to call her if I ever wanted to talk. We’d been chatting. I told her I appreciated it, although I’d be more likely to txt than chat. She said she understood, that sometimes you want to talk but not really. That made sense to me.

Anyhoo…my txting fetish doesn’t seem like it will end anytime soon. If anything it is going to become even more prominent. I’m looking into getting a new phone, one that makes it easier to tap out messages.

Your feature match is….fate or just coincidence.

Okay. So one of the things C and I agreed upon as part of our separation was to “date other people,” something that, trust me, is much easier to deal with in theory then in reality. But I’m not going to get into that.

Anyhoo…in the internet age, the most effective way to meet people is of course via interent dating. You select a service, post a profile with some basic info and perhaps a photograph or two and wait for the offers to roll on in. Well, attractive women like C wait for them to roll on in. Guys have to do the rolling, I’ve discovered, and most rolls end up gutters, which is, oh, so much fun, and by fun I mean demoralizing.

Turned out that both C and I put up profiles on Yahoo Personals. And one day C calls me to share something…curioius, and perhaps a little amusing. She got an email, offering 15 matches. And guess who was the feature match? You got it — Me! Just to prove she wasn’t yanking my chain (something I always enjoy,  wink wink, nudge nudge) she showed me the email.

So here’s the thing. Does one take that as some kind of sign of fate? Or is it merely a quirky coincidence?

I suppose it depends on the person, right. In event, we’re still separated. I mean, really, who is going to trust their major life decisions to the algorithms of Yahoo?

But just for the heck of it, let’s take a little poll, shall we?

Mission Impossible

I’m beginning to thank that perhaps I can’t blog about this whole separating thing. Maybe it’s too new still, to raw. After all it’s only been about 3 months. Ugh!

Maybe it’s too new, I’m too raw. I don’t want to lament and complain, whine and bitch, but too often it seems as if that is all I have in me.

I’m too tired. And despite being exhausted I can barely manage to sleep 4-5 hrs a night, if I’m lucky.

And whoa to the poor soul that gets me talking about it, because once I get going I simply cannot shut up. I try, but I can’t. Was up yakking until 2am  last night on the phone with someone, and I could have gone on longer, much longer.

No matter how much I talk, no matter what “conclusions” I come to it doesn’t really help. In the end, that tight, knot of angst is there in my chest, like a fucking clencheed fist.

It’s this feeling of abandoment that’s the worst. Like a free-fall through my emotions.

You know what makes me think of? When I was kid, shopping in K-Mart with my mom. I’d wander away in the toy section,  pull some toy off the shelf and sit down and start playing only to look up after who knows how long to realize that Mom is gone. Where is she? Where’d she go? I fill with dread, as if someone was pouring into me from the top of my peeled open head. I get up to look for but can’t find her. Panic and sweat. I begin running moving through the store. ….

Of course, I found my mom. She wasn’t that far off, it didn’t take me long to find her but it felt like an enternity. And from then I’d suffer nightmares and even sudden waking dreams of finding myself suddenly and utterly alone.

What do you make of the Sigmund?


Separating: GenX Style

Recently I reread John Updike’s I think pretty well-known short story, Separating, in which his fictional couple the Maples, characters Updike wrote many stories about, separate. I guess I wanted to see how much of it rang true for me in my current situation. I suppose some of it did. After all a separating must have some very universal qualities, regardless of the people involved. Still, it didn’t really give me what I wanted. What did I want anyway? I’m not exactly sure. I’m not saying it isn’t a great story, because it is, one of my favorites. But my mind these days, obviously because of my situation, is about what happens after the separation, how one forms their life, and their family. Separating ends just before the actual separation takes place, practically speaking anyway — all the children have been told, not its just a matter of the physical move etc.

Maybe I’m wrong, but it strikes me that so many, probably the majority of stories/novels/movies/TV shows that have been concocted about separating and divorce are about the events leading up to. The afterwards is often relegated to the denouement. And I’m interested in is what comes next? Is what comes next so standard and expected and considered uninteresting that it isn’t worth writing about, dramatizing? Maybe not. I don’t know. But it is what I’m interested in, right now anyway. Perhaps only because Im in it.

Anyway. This kind of goes back to a comment that Colleen left on an early (the first?) post about this particular subject. She talked about how she thought this was worth writing about, ie a couple with child separating and attempting to forge a good and positive dynamic in the afterworld of marriage or whatever, unlike so many divorces, which can get so ugly and mean. We did not want ours to devolve into that. I’ve no first hand experience in such matter, although I know people and have heard stories, and I’m always just taken aback by how vicious and petty people can be. I’m not saying I don’t get, because I think I do, how a person’s pain can turn to vitriol. I’m just saying I don’t want to be that way.

I guess I associated these ugly dramatic kinds of divorces mainly Baby Boomer, unfair or not. But the time has come it seems for Generation X to take on separation and divorce. I know that suddenly it seems as if more and more people my age, of my generation, are divorced, getting divorced, and perhaps should get divorced. I freely admit that I have heeped many a harsh criticism against Baby Boomer who can’t seem to hold their marriages together. Considering my circumstances I suppose it would be hypocritical for me to continue in that vein, but you know what, I’m okay with that. Besides, I’m hardly going to feel stung by “whose high and mighty now” criticism from any Boomers, arguably the most hypocritical generation to walk the Earth.

Separating/divorce is a fact of life. I obviously can’t deny that, now can I. But I think that one can work to to forge a better dynamic in the aftermath of separating/divorce, that one can strive to retain more of one’s humanity, to not degrade one’s self along with others by allowing one’s self to slip into petty and demeaning and just plain mean behavior. That’s what I’m working toward. And I’d like to thing that other GenXers going through the same thing are more likely to strive for that as well, much more so than our ego-inflated elders in the Boomer cohort.

But who knows for sure, right? We could be even worse at it. Ba ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Yeah… I know. …that was pretty hilarious. How could any generation be worse at marriage and divorce then the Boomers?