There never was any possibility of my ex-wife and me making things work for our kids’ sake. Kids have so much power and magic and sway. But one thing they cannot do, and should never ever be expected to do, is to place the sparking defibrillators on mom and dad’s busted love.
We meant it as a joke. An ironic commentary about the world's obsession with documenting every living, breathing moment. I posted it on Instagram and Facebook with the caption "Awkward Separation Moving Day Selfie" and never meant for it to be taken seriously.
So now he writes his admittedly beautiful missives about heartbreak and love lost and everyone is swooning and wondering, How could she leave a guy like that? I can only answer that being able to write eloquently about love isn’t necessarily indicative of what you’re like in a relationship
I love my kids so much that I start freaking out when I begin thinking that there are zealots who might consider me a lesser man, or a lesser father, because my children’s mom and I ended a marriage mutually, when all else had failed.
I’m struggling with so much, but I think most of it is ego. I can’t wrap my head around the idea of someone who wanted to be with me forever not wanting that anymore. Isn’t that weird? Think about it. It’s high comedy if you read it right.
With the divorce papers getting signed and the whole thing slamming into my skull like a cannonball coming down out of the sky, I’ve been super desperate to be someone else for a while now. I’m tired of being me.
When I think about either one of us seeing another person, of Monica or me actually dating somebody who isn’t Monica or me, that seems like Niagara Falls under our Vans, a sure and sudden end to whatever chance we might’ve had.
We’re getting along better than ever and that makes me happy because we need to do that, it makes life so much easier. But it makes me sad too, you know. Because it feels like I’m meeting a girl for the first time and I kind of really like her.
I’m 38 and have been taking care of myself for a long time now. I have the power to stitch the shotgun blast not having a stable, present dad blew into my chest. It ain’t easy though. A lifetime spent building a personality based on insecurity, confusion and sadness is no picnic to untangle.
Single parenting is harder than hell. The lack of that other parent/partner to step in and offer up even a moment of relief when I’m dealing with a double-meltdown as I’m trying my hardest to get dinner on the table, that’s a tough void to explain to people who don’t walk in my shoes.
We laud couples who have been together for decades, but does the celebrated longevity of a coupling often come at the expense of the happiness and personal fulfillment of those within the union? We all know couples who have years and years of marriage under their belts but can count the happy times on one hand. Is their marriage a “success” simply because they’re still together? What about a five year marriage during which a couple is satisfied and happy and quickly end it when they realize they no longer work together?