How is your writing going? Is the demise of our relationship fanning the flames of the creativity within you?
You wrote, “I don’t want to hurt you when I told you that I wanted to file for divorce. I’m sorry that you slept poorly. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I hope you sleep well tonight.”
The truth is that I slept great. The first night was tough. I cannot say that I was totally shocked. You have been doing everything in your power to squash my love for you since the day we met. If I wasn’t mentally-ill, with the insane need to care for broken things, I would have left years ago. “The horror, the horror.” Still, there was something about living with a woman who has bi-polar disorder that was compelling, especially since I had no idea through the majority of our relationship that you have bipolar disorder. Everyday was an adventure. Some days were filled with intense passion and love, others were filled with inexplicable scenes of animal-like anger, sadness and self-destruction.
I don’t even think we need to get divorced. I think our 9,000 KM separation is just as good. I think the only reason why you want to get divorced is because you want me to sign over the house to you. It is a financial decision on your part. I’m baffled about what to do about it. I’m not angry and I claim to love you. If I love you, then I would not do you harm. Therefore kicking you out on the street would be out of the question. How can people get divorced and destroy each other? They could not have really loved each other if they are able to do such a thing even when they are wronged. Not only do people lack education, they lack character.
Apropos literature. The German Literature class was kind of a failure. It was more of a Literature Circle. Everybody there had already read the book. I thought we would be reading some kind of German underground classics, but as it turned it the book was by some English guy. I sat there for 2 hours listening to people discuss a novel that was unfamiliar to me. It was about fishing in the Middle East. First off, I hate fishing. It is animal torture in the worst way. One of the participants made a great point. He said fishing is only allowed because fish have no voice. They can’t scream. Because they silently suffer, people ignore their pain and misery. In fact, while people stand on the shallow banks of rivers everywhere in the world jamming hooks into the mouths of mute sea creatures, they all claim they do it to attain tranquility and peace of mind. It really makes me want to stomp down to my local river and beat people with a heavy-duty fishing rod. “Dance, motherfuckers, dance.”
After two hours of listening to people yammer on about this book, I felt like I had read it from cover to cover. I felt like it was a miserable piece of garbage. I had to hold back from saying, “what a fucking stupid idea for a novel,” and throwing my ignorance out for everyone to see. Afterwards they asked me what I thought of Bob Dylan winning the Nobel Prize for Literature and I threw my ignorance out for everyone to see. I said it was a joke. They asked me to elaborate and I only managed to mutter two failed, grammatical incorrect sentences. It was a sad performance to be sure.
So, that was my evening. Because I slept poorly the night before, I was able to easily crawl into my bed with my two water bottles and sleep soundly. Thanks for being concerned.
I still haven’t decided what I want to do about all of this “divorce” stuff. How do you see the future? Do you really want me out of your life? I can’t imagine a universe without you. Yet, you hate my children. So I kind of want to say, “Fuck off, bitch!” Maybe I should just burn everything to the ground and be done with it.
Well, sleep well. Talk at you tomorrow.