Discussing your former marriage with a member of the opposite sex can be an interesting experience. Women are the "talkers", the "analyzers", the ones that will bond with you over shared experience and perhaps ask questions that make you go "hmmmm, that's a good point."
Unless you're seeing a male therapist, you're probably not going to get that level of feedback from a guy. It's just names, dates, times...sort of like giving a police report. (Unfortunately, that is one skill I've learned over the past few months.)
But I'm ok with that. It's a hard wired brain thing and nature is a bitch to go against.
What I'm finding a tad delightful is actual conversation.
That is, perhaps, one of the most pathetic realizations I've had about my marriage. I don't recall a time of just shooting the shit, sharing crazy stories, and laughing, not even at the beginning of our marriage. It makes me alternately sad that I wasted so many years of my life being sucked into a dark vortex, and thankful that finally I can stand back, separate from the experience, and realize how much better things are now.
Even if the divorce hands him a beauty pageant sash and every material thing I own, life is so much better now.
Even if the criminal case ends up with the judge giving him a great big hug and putting him in charge of a daycare center, life is so much better now.
That's been the biggest change in my head over the past couple of weeks. Screaming at the wailing wall just gives you a sore throat. I have no more control to alter events once I have done everything in my power to accomplish my goals. Learning to separate what is currently going through the vast Vogon-bureaucracy from what is happening in my everyday life has kept my feet on the ground.
That, and discovering that my new guy friend is a sci-fi fan.
And he totally thinks our new last name ROCKS!
Wow. Mutual interests, conversation, and respect.
It's a whole new world.
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