Not just broken, but irretrievably broken. At least, that’s what it said on the petition for dissolution of marriage that I signed today. Seems a bit harsh when you see it in black and white, but there has to be some reason to ask for the dissolution, and “The marriage is irretrievably broken” is as good a reason as any. Pretty darn accurate, if you ask me. As the old saying goes, even a broken clock is right twice a day, but unfortunately the same cannot be said for a broken marriage. Once it’s broken, it stays broken, Sure, you can patch it up for a while, do your best to find some glue that will hold the pieces together, but at some point, not too long after it is applied, the glue becomes brittle, starts to flake off and not too long after that, you are back where you started.
Except now the pieces are harder to stick back together because the old glue won’t let the pieces reconnect as well as they did before. Eventually you end up with a pile of pieces that used to add up to something recognisable and whole, but now are nothing more than disconnected pieces fit only to be cleared away and disposed of in as neat and tidy a way as possible.
I have to admit to not feeling anything as I signed the form. Maybe it’s a product of moving on, of realising that it couldn’t be fixed, that we both realised this and that it wouldn’t be worth the effort even if one of us did. So, I signed my name on the line, with as much flourish and brio as I could muster in a cold office at 11am. The papers will be filed in a day or so, and then the clock starts ticking down the minimum 90 days before we get the dissolution and we both go our separate ways. I’m not sure what that is going to feel like, not least being in court, which is something I have so far managed to avoid, despite all rumours to the contrary.
Gentle readers, I’m sure you are all pretty fed up with me using song titles as post headings, but this is the thing. It’s partly a coping mechanism that allows me to share my thoughts to the 3 of you who are still reading, and it gives me a hook on which to hang my words. If you derive any benefit from reading, then let me know, otherwise I may just pull the plug and turn it into a private diary or just stop documenting the process entirely. This stuff isn’t easy to write at the best of times and is a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy, I can tell you.