NBD in Book Seven: Reconstruction 2020

It’s not a big deal really. In fact I probably wouldn’t have mentioned it at all but my Mom sent me a text to tell me she was thinking of me, wanted to make sure I was okay this evening.

You see…
approximately one year ago today- Nancy and I were in Hawaii.
approximately two years ago today- I was starting my new job in This County
but most importantly
approximately nine years ago today- Nancy and I were married.

Thing is… I’m not breaking down. I’m not sobbing or weeping or feeling like a failure or any of the over emotional responses I’ve had through this process so far. I’m just… recognizing a date that should be more important than it is. And strangely, that makes me intellectually sad. Not like… emotionally upset… but there’s this acknowledgement in my brain that this is a sad moment. I mean, I still remember the exact date of the first girl I ever asked out. The day I married my wife should evoke more emotion. But I’m guessing that Nancy finally openly admitting what I had suspected for so long… that she didn’t love me and married me because “it made sense”… I mean… I definitely had my agony and weeping and gnashing of teeth… and that may well return at some point. And I had my anger and fury and rage over her seeing other men and sleeping with them so quickly and telling me to my face she never loved me. So I don’t know. I mean… maybe the prevailing feelings right now are threefold?
(1) I’m upset that I wasted so much time. After everything we went through during Law School, I should have called it then. No love? No sex? No support? No marriage. But I was stubborn. The divorce rate for lawyers ESPECIALLY in and around law school is super high and I didn’t want to be that stereotype. Plus the whole “the first years are hard” influenced by my guilt about moving her out of Iowa. I can rationalize and reason; but I’m still upset that I wasted so much time.
(2) I’m upset that a person could do that. In general and to me specifically. I understand fear, I understand wanting to select “comfort and being taken care of” over “the unknown”, I intellectually understand all the reasons why Nancy wouldn’t just come out and say that she didn’t want to be married to me. I get it. But emotionally? It feels like a betrayal of selfishness. This concept that I just… wasn’t important enough to her to have my needs, wants, or even my future matter. She processed the issue as “what benefits her” and I wasn’t a factor.
(3) I feel the fear. Strongly, this constant now hum of fear and insecurity. Even when I knew we had insurmountable problems and needed to go through with a separation/divorce… I felt I could rely on the idea that another human in this world chose me to build a life with. But now, there is a very real hum of fear and insecurity that begs the questions (a) was that as good as it gets? (b) Is that all you get? and (c) What now? But that what now comes with a mess of back story. Because I’m a prosecutor in a small town… but I also know who I am and won’t change that for nobody. I’m a cultured, well educated man that is less likely to go to a Country Music Festival or own a Pickup and much more likely to go to an Orchestra Concert and own a Rolls. And that isn’t so much a negative judgment against the people in my town for the most part… just an obvious issue. Prosecutor means buzzkill and narc and government. So for the “fun, party” type I’m awful because I end parties. And for the “stiff, super GOP” type I’m awful because I represent ‘too much government involvement.” At least, that’s what I hear here. Meanwhile, I’m not the Camping and Fishing Outdoorsy Guy that seems to be considered “top hunk” in this area. I’m… I’ll put it this way… I’m less Dirty Harry and more Frasier Crane… and I don’t feel required to apologize for it.

I fought against every impulse and desire and part of who I am for almost 30 years. But in law school and with being married… all of my self-conflict faded. I didn’t have to feel bad about who I really was. I had FINALLY found people that were like me that I actually enjoyed. Pathetic truth is.... I’d found people like me before and I despised them. They were always a bad fit in lots of ways. But in Law School… I found my element. I found my people. It isn’t fair to say that I found myself in Law School; more so that I found people who helped me/allowed me to accept myself. And… yes. I am afraid that I will never find someone that loves me or wants me that fits into an appropriate “wife” or “lover” role. I am… terrified of that, honestly. But for the first time in my entire life… that fear doesn’t come from a “will I lose myself” position… but a “I know who I am and I don’t want to hide that, ignore it, or diminish it.” So the fear comes from an ego-centric place. I accept that in every relationship changes happen to each individual. But I’ve only been okay with who I am for a few short years really. I don’t want perpetual rejection or recurring loneliness to make me doubt myself because I’m really not used to being okay with me like I have been for the last few years.

So that’s where I am on this UNAnniversary. Upset at my choices, upset at Nancy’s choices, and terrified about the future. But in that way? I’m not much different than anyone else whose gone through all of this. But I will say COVID is really throwing a wrench into overcoming a lot of this. Or maybe not. That’s the thing, isn’t it? COVID prevents me from trying to “pick up women” in bars and the like.... Which could go one of many ways. Either I strike out constantly… sending myself into a catastrophic depression filled with self doubt and depression. OR I do okay in getting women interested, but they never want to stick around after realizing the deeper parts of me… sending me into an existential dread and identity crisis of such a severe degree that I wrote novels about it. OR I do really well in getting women interested but… like in High School… it is always the wrong women and by their violence and drug use, not only is my life destroyed but I lose my job and my house. OR… I do okay and everything’s fine. But with COVID… no way to know for sure. But when I think about it?? There’s something safe, if depressing, about all of that being a question mark still. By NOT knowing if I’d have any success… I’m still able to think of the scenarios as hypothetical instead of experiential.