The End Is Near
I got the papers in the mail yesterday.
I knew they were coming, and it wasn't like I felt punched in the gut or anything, nothing so dramatic as that. But it was a sad thing, looking through them, seeing S.'s and my name side by side on all these forms we have to file to prove we've ended our relationship. Documenting personal trauma for the public record.
At least there was nothing in the papers that took me my surprise or disturbed me in any way. Everything was just as I expected, just as we "discussed" through the attorneys. And our case is so simple, there really wasn't that much to look through.
There was one clause that struck me as rather funny, although I suppose it's standard wording. The first item listed under the Separation Agreement reads, "The parties have separated and shall continue to live separate and apart from each other. Each party releases the other from all duties of cohabitation and fidelity. Each party agrees not to molest, annoy, interfere with or harass the other in any manner whatsoever." Fair enough, for the most part . . . but can you really promise never to "annoy" another person? Even though we will both sign these papers, I can pretty much guarantee that if S. and I ever have another conversation after all of this is over, one or the other of us will, at some point, annoy the other. It just seems like a strange word to include in the language of the agreement. (Then again, maybe we won't ever talk again, in which case the whole point is mute.)
The simplicity of our dissolution papers, though, and the fact that we had almost nothing to divide or fight over, got me considering what kind of "marriage" we really had in the first place. I mean, yes, we lived together for many years, and one day three years ago we threw this kick-ass party and stood up in front of our family and friends and said some things and signed some papers. We were "married." But after that? We never merged our bank accounts, and we never really talked about finances. We had a joint credit card, briefly, that we used to pay for wedding stuff, and after it was paid off, we canceled it. We had separate savings, separate retirement accounts, everything. The mortgage and most of the bills were in his name, and each month, I gave him a check for half of everything.
On the surface, it worked out well. Most importantly and obviously, we never fought about money. Never. We weren't well off by any means, but we always had enough, and we just kind of casually split everything. I make more than he does, but I'm also paying off student loans, so our disposable incomes were pretty near even. We would go out one night and he would pay, and then the next time, I would pay. And neither of us are stingy or materialistic . . . it just always seemed to come out even enough to satisfy both of us. It was never a problem.
But then again, maybe keeping everything separate like that prevented us from developing a real partnership. We never had to. I've read time and time again about how the number one issue most married couples fight about is money, and since we never did, we never really learned how to argue. At least money is a concrete thing to argue about, and it doesn't have to be perceived as a personal attack. By the time we got around to facing the big issues--children, hopes and dreams, the future--we just didn't know how to disagree with each other. Everything was personal, and we were both defensive all the time--him especially, but me too, in many ways. And when we finally got around to getting counseling, it was too late.
I do think we had completely different reasons for not truly merging our lives. For him, it was sheer laziness. I'm not kidding. He is not the most motivated person in the world. (His current job is evidence of that--he got it through a friend, it pays pretty well but is completely mindless, it requires no creativity, and at the end of the day, he can just leave it. And he likes it that way.) He would sometimes bring up the idea of getting a joint checking account, putting my name on the mortgage, etc., but he just never followed through.
For me, it was more than that (although I admit my share of laziness). I think I was just terrified of giving up complete control of my finances, of my life. I've been on my own for so long--started working when I was 15, put myself through college, etc. And I was 34 when I got married. That's a long time to be self-reliant, and it's not easy to let go of that control and trust someone. And it wasn't that I didn't trust S. specifically . . . I don't think I would have trusted anyone.
Well, one thing's for sure, I wasn't going to trust anyone who wasn't even willing to help me work on my trust issues, or even admit I had them!
O.K., I know this is rambling. As you can probably tell, I'm trying to get away from the bitterness and move to a more contemplative place, figure out what happened. It's not that I'm having regrets--I know we are doing the right thing, and it's too late anyway. But there's nothing wrong with trying to learn from your mistakes, right?
You'd think I could at least do that, for once in my life.
I knew they were coming, and it wasn't like I felt punched in the gut or anything, nothing so dramatic as that. But it was a sad thing, looking through them, seeing S.'s and my name side by side on all these forms we have to file to prove we've ended our relationship. Documenting personal trauma for the public record.
At least there was nothing in the papers that took me my surprise or disturbed me in any way. Everything was just as I expected, just as we "discussed" through the attorneys. And our case is so simple, there really wasn't that much to look through.
There was one clause that struck me as rather funny, although I suppose it's standard wording. The first item listed under the Separation Agreement reads, "The parties have separated and shall continue to live separate and apart from each other. Each party releases the other from all duties of cohabitation and fidelity. Each party agrees not to molest, annoy, interfere with or harass the other in any manner whatsoever." Fair enough, for the most part . . . but can you really promise never to "annoy" another person? Even though we will both sign these papers, I can pretty much guarantee that if S. and I ever have another conversation after all of this is over, one or the other of us will, at some point, annoy the other. It just seems like a strange word to include in the language of the agreement. (Then again, maybe we won't ever talk again, in which case the whole point is mute.)
The simplicity of our dissolution papers, though, and the fact that we had almost nothing to divide or fight over, got me considering what kind of "marriage" we really had in the first place. I mean, yes, we lived together for many years, and one day three years ago we threw this kick-ass party and stood up in front of our family and friends and said some things and signed some papers. We were "married." But after that? We never merged our bank accounts, and we never really talked about finances. We had a joint credit card, briefly, that we used to pay for wedding stuff, and after it was paid off, we canceled it. We had separate savings, separate retirement accounts, everything. The mortgage and most of the bills were in his name, and each month, I gave him a check for half of everything.
On the surface, it worked out well. Most importantly and obviously, we never fought about money. Never. We weren't well off by any means, but we always had enough, and we just kind of casually split everything. I make more than he does, but I'm also paying off student loans, so our disposable incomes were pretty near even. We would go out one night and he would pay, and then the next time, I would pay. And neither of us are stingy or materialistic . . . it just always seemed to come out even enough to satisfy both of us. It was never a problem.
But then again, maybe keeping everything separate like that prevented us from developing a real partnership. We never had to. I've read time and time again about how the number one issue most married couples fight about is money, and since we never did, we never really learned how to argue. At least money is a concrete thing to argue about, and it doesn't have to be perceived as a personal attack. By the time we got around to facing the big issues--children, hopes and dreams, the future--we just didn't know how to disagree with each other. Everything was personal, and we were both defensive all the time--him especially, but me too, in many ways. And when we finally got around to getting counseling, it was too late.
I do think we had completely different reasons for not truly merging our lives. For him, it was sheer laziness. I'm not kidding. He is not the most motivated person in the world. (His current job is evidence of that--he got it through a friend, it pays pretty well but is completely mindless, it requires no creativity, and at the end of the day, he can just leave it. And he likes it that way.) He would sometimes bring up the idea of getting a joint checking account, putting my name on the mortgage, etc., but he just never followed through.
For me, it was more than that (although I admit my share of laziness). I think I was just terrified of giving up complete control of my finances, of my life. I've been on my own for so long--started working when I was 15, put myself through college, etc. And I was 34 when I got married. That's a long time to be self-reliant, and it's not easy to let go of that control and trust someone. And it wasn't that I didn't trust S. specifically . . . I don't think I would have trusted anyone.
Well, one thing's for sure, I wasn't going to trust anyone who wasn't even willing to help me work on my trust issues, or even admit I had them!
O.K., I know this is rambling. As you can probably tell, I'm trying to get away from the bitterness and move to a more contemplative place, figure out what happened. It's not that I'm having regrets--I know we are doing the right thing, and it's too late anyway. But there's nothing wrong with trying to learn from your mistakes, right?
You'd think I could at least do that, for once in my life.
posted by flipper at 7:52 AM
2 Comments:
RE: the "molest/annoy" clause
Yeah, that's common language. I had that in mine too--gave me a bit of a chuckle.
Ya know...The Idiot and I merged everything...it's just harder to tear it apart. It had absolutely no benefit in our relationship...except for him because he got to spend my money. But that was just us.
I hope your happiness starts soon. These things are hard.
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