Til Iraq Do Us Part
"I'm going to Turkey next week."
"Good for you," says Database Dude.
"Lots of history there, alot of the ruins that I thought were in Greece are actually in Turkey. And there is an abundance of raki..." I say, smiling.
"I'll be heading back home for my first R&R."
"When are you going?"
"December. But I don't know if I'll be coming back married," Database Dude looks glumly at his monitor.
"Oh."
"Sixteen years. Two kids."
"Jeez."
I think of my life, of the chasm now firmly between my SO and myself. Nine years with him, and he barely emails, almost never calls. Over. Over is over, as I told David, as he wrote again of how much he wants to leave his wife of 25 years. "She will never change. We just don't belong together," he states.
"Then you should leave," I reply.
"I have tried so hard to make it work. It is all a sham. She has reduced me to the most basic unit."
I involuntarily perk up at any mention of David's unit. "Then you should leave," I repeat.
"I've got to leave. I've got to get out of this," his voice trails off. "God," he sighs.
He'll never leave. Never in a million years.
Debbie, Lois, Shannon, Joey, Carman...the list goes on and on. Everywhere. Steamy affairs, violent divorces, transitions. People fly home on R&R married, and return divorced. We are all transitioning. The smart ones plan for it. The rest just tag along, forever sweeping up the inevitable piles of shit that become their lives.
Bob sat down glumly. "Guess I'll have to cut off the money."
"Why?" I ask.
"I got an email from a friend when I was at home, said 'sorry to hear that you two are going your separate ways.'"
"Ouch."
"No shit."
"Was she acting funny?"
"No more so than usual."
"How long have you been married?"
"32 years."
"Jeez."
I think no one would take this job if their lives were really on track back home. But time and distance relentlessly chip away at any cracks, claiming one relationship after another as fodder of war.
We vowed til death do us part, never imagining that it would instead be Iraq that would cast the final blow.
"Good for you," says Database Dude.
"Lots of history there, alot of the ruins that I thought were in Greece are actually in Turkey. And there is an abundance of raki..." I say, smiling.
"I'll be heading back home for my first R&R."
"When are you going?"
"December. But I don't know if I'll be coming back married," Database Dude looks glumly at his monitor.
"Oh."
"Sixteen years. Two kids."
"Jeez."
I think of my life, of the chasm now firmly between my SO and myself. Nine years with him, and he barely emails, almost never calls. Over. Over is over, as I told David, as he wrote again of how much he wants to leave his wife of 25 years. "She will never change. We just don't belong together," he states.
"Then you should leave," I reply.
"I have tried so hard to make it work. It is all a sham. She has reduced me to the most basic unit."
I involuntarily perk up at any mention of David's unit. "Then you should leave," I repeat.
"I've got to leave. I've got to get out of this," his voice trails off. "God," he sighs.
He'll never leave. Never in a million years.
Debbie, Lois, Shannon, Joey, Carman...the list goes on and on. Everywhere. Steamy affairs, violent divorces, transitions. People fly home on R&R married, and return divorced. We are all transitioning. The smart ones plan for it. The rest just tag along, forever sweeping up the inevitable piles of shit that become their lives.
Bob sat down glumly. "Guess I'll have to cut off the money."
"Why?" I ask.
"I got an email from a friend when I was at home, said 'sorry to hear that you two are going your separate ways.'"
"Ouch."
"No shit."
"Was she acting funny?"
"No more so than usual."
"How long have you been married?"
"32 years."
"Jeez."
I think no one would take this job if their lives were really on track back home. But time and distance relentlessly chip away at any cracks, claiming one relationship after another as fodder of war.
We vowed til death do us part, never imagining that it would instead be Iraq that would cast the final blow.
posted by akantha at 3:54 PM
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