Hi. Bet you guys thought I’d never be back.
You were wrong.
Anginae lives. I’m writing a book. More to come.
Hi. Bet you guys thought I’d never be back.
You were wrong.
Anginae lives. I’m writing a book. More to come.
I bet not many divorcing couples stand in the kitchen of the home they share and hug each other on the day that they finally file their divorce with the county court clerk. But that’s what Jay and I did. Two days ago I filed my divorce petition. In 90 days, this nearly 15 year marriage will be over.
My soon-to-be ex-husband and I are on very good terms which you know if you have read any portion of this blog. I’ve done a lot of thinking and soul-searching over this past year more than ever. I’m ending this marriage, not Jay. I don’t think he would ever file for divorce if I did not do it myself. But, I have come to the conclusion that divorcing him is the best thing for me and for Jay, and for the kids in the long run.
While 2009 was not the best year of my life (I did some things I am NOT proud of) the events that shaped the year helped me realize that I need out of this marriage. And for the people and choices I made that brought me to that conclusion I am grateful. But I’m ready to move on. Starting a new life seems very promising and I’m excited about that. Happy New Year everyone.
I have chosen to make light of my situation. I mean, media treats situations like mine as comedy. Examples: The Birdcage, Will and Grace, Modern Family. There are more. You laugh when you watch these. I laugh when I watch these. So why cry at my own life?
I’m not crying anymore. I’m done. It’s life. It’s fun. It’s real. No one is dressed like June Cleaver and standing in the kitchen all day trying not to make the sponge cake fall while talking to the ladies on the phone too loudly about the fall bazzar.
Recently I’ve outed Jay to several of my friends and family. Their reaction always contains something like, “I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this.” Well yeah – it’s been hard at times. But in reality I have a good life. I married a man when I was still a child (19) who made the ultimate sacrifice – his own happiness- to provide for me and care for me. To give me children when he would have been OK without having children. To build what appeared to be a perfect life with me. For all of this I am truly grateful.
My life is good. My kids have a good father. I have a great relationship with Jay and don’t see that ever changing. I have a man who loves me and desires me who wants to be a part of my “modern family” and a step-father to my children. He wants to keep Jay in our lives and he’s very accepting of the situation. I love his children and look forward to getting to be a part of their lives.
So although I’m anxious about the future (I don’t like the unknown) I am confident that this new family that’s forming will be a happy one.
About a month ago, I informed my parents that Jay and I would be getting a divorce. Let’s just say – they didn’t take it well. I didn’t tell them that Jay is gay. I just told them it was amicable. Since then, I have endured their comments, accusations, and their shame due to their assumption that the end of my marriage was my fault. It hurt. Really bad at times. I didn’t admit how bad to anyone. But, I was protecting Jay. Even though I don’t love him the way I thought I did (I’ll explain in a moment) I do love him. He’s part of me. He always will be. He’s the father of the children I adore. He’s been with me through everything I’ve been through and a few of those times were very hard. He stayed here through his coming-out process while he was trying to figure out what he wanted to do. He didn’t just up and leave me alone like he could have. And he wouldn’t ask me for a divorce even to this day if I hadn’t asked for one first.
A couple of good friends convinced me that I couldn’t endure my parents torture anymore. Jay never asked me to protect him. He was tired of watching me hurt and said one time, “Just tell them you married a fag and get it over with!” I still refused. But, after careful consideration I decided that outing my soon-to-be ex-husband couldn’t make things any worse. So this morning, I grew some balls and drove the 30 miles to my parents’ home to spill my guts.
They were shocked. They apologized. They didn’t ask many questions but I’m sure they will once they have time to think about things. They said they don’t understand but they want me to be happy. They want Jay to be happy. The situation went much better than I had anticipated. I apologized for not trusting them enough to tell them the information in the first place. They were saddened by the fact that I have been going through this alone for two years. But what I wanted to tell them was that I haven’t been alone. I wanted to tell them that for the last six months I have been seeing the most amazing man who I’m terribly in love with. That he has changed my life. That I have been unfaithful to my gay husband and I’ve fallen head-over-heels in love with this man. That I’m planning a future with him. And that I’m learning what it feels like to really be in love.
Make no mistake about this – my love for Jay is genuine. I know that. And I know it will never end. But looking back on our relationship, I now recognize that my love for him is not and perhaps never was romantic love. I wanted him. I desired him. But, it seems like there was always something missing.
That missing ingredient was passion. We never had passion. We had love, mutual respect, commitment, and friendship. But, I never knew we were lacking passion. I now think that passion is created by desire. He never desired me. He loved me and that love was enough for him to be able to make love to me, make me happy, make me feel good. But, words can’t explain the difference in sex when there is no passion, and sex when there is tons of passion.
So, I’ve found what I’ve been missing. I’ve fallen in love -quite possibly – for the first time in my life. I know God put me and Jay together for a purpose. We have two amazing kids. We’ve had an amazing, happy life together that is not ending – just changing. I think I’m here to help him travel this difficult road he’s started walking down. But, I’ve fallen in love with a man that I feel I was made for. My heart belongs to him. I want to spend the rest of my life making him happy. I want him to take care of me. I can’t live without him. I don’t want to.
What’s amazing to me is that at the age of 34, I’m just now having these feelings about a man. I didn’t feel like this with Jay. My relationship with Jay was always comfortable. We were friends. Friends who loved each other. Who still love each other. Things came easy.
So my days are spent daydreaming about another man. My nights are filled with desire to be lying next to him. My heart feels like it’s exploding with love for him. When I see him, I can’t wait to touch him. I can’t wait to have my lips on his. When I sleep in his bed, I feel safe and at home. I miss him as soon as we part. I adore him. I watch him sleep – thanking God for putting him into my life. Believing with heart and soul that we were made for each other and it just took us so long to find one another.
I wouldn’t change my past, and neither would he. Because we both have wonderful kids that we live for. But I’m very excited about my future with him. Looking forward to loving him and his children with all my heart. Looking forward to everything that comes along with building a life together – from the boring, mundane, and ordinary tasks to the fun and exciting and intimate times we are sure to share. I love him. It sounds so simple. But it means the world. It means the entire world.
* No perfume allowed. He doesn’t want his wife to smell you.
* No hickeys, scratches, or fingernail marks. (Not that I would do this anyway but let’s just make sure it’s understood.)
* This relationship is on his terms. He is hiding you from his wife, so you have to follow his rules.
* No calling, texting, IM during hours in which he might be at home with his family. It is hard to explain at times why the Blackberry keeps beeping.
* If you are together in public, don’t act like you are any more than an acquaintance or business associate. Don’t expect anything that resembles affection from him. Even though you have done the most unimaginable things together in bed, don’t expect even a second glance if others are around.
* Never, ever, say anything bad about his wife. Even when he confides in you the way he feels when she criticizes him, the way their marriage has become more like a business, the way she shuns him when he approaches her for sex, you are not allowed to make any comments. Just listen.
* Be sexy all the time. Exaggerate every move you make in bed. Act like a porn star.
*Most importantly – don’t fall in love with him. You know – he has a family and no matter how hard it gets at home, he’s not leaving.
But, I did fall in love. I didn’t plan on it. It just happened. I’ve followed all the rules. And I never, ever, wanted to fall in love. Especially with a married man. But, he said it first. Said he was falling in love with me. Remembers the look in my eyes when he told me.
How could I not fall in love with the first straight man I’ve ever slept with? Sleeping with him only 4 days after we met made me feel like a slut. But I didn’t care. I had to know what sex with a man-man was like. Sex with my gay husband was great, but I wasn’t satisfied with that.
Seriously, all I wanted was sex. That’s all he wanted as well. It was part of the terms of our agreement. However, he started to like me. Started asking questions about my personal life – not just what I wanted to do in bed. Started talking about his kids, his family, his career. Showed me his sense of humor. Showed me his sensitive side. Told me I was an amazing woman. A great person. The best lover he’s ever had. Noticed things about my body that J never had. Pointed out beautiful parts of me that I didn’t know I had. Made me feel good about myself.
He loved me first. And the more time I spent with him, the more I realized I was growing to love him. Now he says he can see it in my eyes when I look at him. He knows I love him and he’s confident of that fact. Never doubts it. Wants to meet my kids. Would love for me to meet his (I refuse).
So, at the end of the day, I only get to dream about being beside him when I wake up in the morning. I only get to dream about taking care of him. I only get to wonder what it must be like to welcome him home every night. Because he’s fulfilling the commitment he made to his family. And ironically, that’s the reason I love him the most.
It’s not fair that I never get what I want.
I went to a gay bar this weekend. Great fun! Had my breasts (which are very nice I must say) kissed by a drag queen. Each one. Glittery lipstick.
I haven’t written in a few months. My life is busy. The only reason I’m writing now is because I’m hurt, confused, sad, worried. I don’t know what else to do or where else to turn.
Jay is my only real friend. I mean, I have some AMAZING friends. They love me. They’d do absolutely anything for me. They keep my secrets. They cherish my friendship. But there are some friends I just can’t tell everything. I can’t tell them I’m married to a gay man. I can’t tell them I’m damn near desperate for a solution to my hurt and problems. I can’t tell them I’ve really fucked up the last few months.
I’m not sure I want to spill it here – what has been going on that is. I’m afraid of being judged. I’m afraid of hearing such negative things right now that I couldn’t possibly deal with at this time. But I will tell you what it’s not:
It’s not my marriage to Jay. I love him more than ever. I’m happy with him. I’m encouraging him to try to meet someone he can be friends with. I totally support him and what he is and whatever decisions he needs to make to be the happiest he can in this life. So for all of you who think we should get divorced or hope we get divorced or whatever – too bad. So far that hasn’t presented itself as the right solution. And only the two of us can determine what will make us happy. I know I make him happy. And he knows he makes me happy.
I’ve made some big mistakes. I’ve become emotionally involved where I shouldn’t have. I’m not good at dealing with worry or stress or anything like that. I get depressed easily. I’m on antidepressants. My new one is Cymbalta. I love it and I can tell it’s better than what I was for the last 2 years. But my emotional strains have gotten harder over the last year as well. So I think the Cymbalta is having trouble keeping up.
I need a counselor. I know that. I admit it 100%. I don’t have the time or money.
I know Jay is worried about me. I’ve started drinking more than I should. I’m scared that I really don’t care.
More later. I miss some of you very much.