Happily Ever After

When the dust settled, I felt nothing.

I had no identifiable emotional response.

I was dumbfounded.

What was that all about?

What did I do to deserve being spoken to with such disdain?

I must have done something.

I begin to doubt myself.

I'm a good man. Aren't I? I work hard and am a good provider for my family. I am kind and courteous. I am giving of money and time. Yet, none of this appears to be sufficient.

“You don't listen, David.”

“You are never home.”

“We don't go out anymore.”

“You show me no affection.”

“You are emotionally vacant.”

“You don't spoil me anymore.”

These criticisms, and much, much more, were spat at me by my wife of 20 years.

Her tirade went on for an hour.

It was unexpected. You see, I thought we were doing fine. Turns out, I was wrong.

We lived in relative comfort. Though not rich, at least the children and I want for nothing. It appears as if my wife needed something I couldn’t give. She sacrificed her family and her children for whatever it was she felt she needed.

We lived in a two-story house with a big yard and a swimming pool. I can proudly say that we are debt-free. This level of comfort, though, is far from free. I have sacrificed family time for work, much to my dismay. I felt supported by my wife throughout this time. Her outrage has come as quite a shock. On reflection, it appears as if I may have missed a couple of signals. I must have.

I don't raise my voice. I don't yell, I don't cuss, I love spending time with my children and making them laugh. I like providing for the family. This, I soon discovered, was not good enough. A strength of mine is to delete people from my life who cause me drama. After a month of trying to negotiate the issues within the relationship, I decided that it wasn't going to work, so I deleted my wife from my life. I encourage a strong and positive relationship with the kids and their mother, but I am not interested in anything more than that. Well, now it's just the kids and me.

She thought she had a better deal; however, perceptions do not always equal reality. The separation changed my life for the better. Less work. Less stress. I have been back on the dating scene, but nothing serious. I was a doting husband and tried my best, but in the end, I was not good enough, at least according to her.

She moved into a house with another man. From all accounts, he spoke to her poorly. He threatened her on occasion. He controlled her friendships. Two years later, when he was done with her, she was on the street. When word of this filtered through to me, I felt the pangs of regret and sadness.

I slowed down at work. Though the bills for the house continued to be sent, I paid them. Financially, it was a challenging time, but spiritually, it was the most rewarding. I am close to my children. I love them dearly and am in constant contact with them.

They have since grown and moved out of the home. I live alone now, and while at times it can be rewarding, at others I let the past catch up with me, and I begin to think of how things were. All I wanted as a child was a family. To be more precise, I wanted to be a father and a good father. Oh, I had a father. He just wasn't good.

I was everything he was not.

I am working hard. I rarely drink alcohol. I never raised a hand to my wife. I don't know what else I could have done. Those thoughts are beyond me now. It may not appear so, but I moved on years ago. I've had girlfriends since, yet nothing serious. The one that got away came back, but I have since put up walls to keep her at bay.

I don't have close friends.

I've made my family my life.

Now that I live alone, I am alone.

I have interests that keep me entertained.

I like to read. I like to write. I play the guitar, though not very well. I draw, though quite amateurishly. I feel my way through life, and though I feel the pains of sadness, I also feel the thrill of joy.

I have hidden from the world, for the world has no place for a man like me. It may be true that nice guys finish last. I don't think it applies in my case because, though I consider myself nice, I most certainly do not consider myself coming last.

I am forgotten and often discarded. This is both in my professional and personal life. I am useful only when people need me. Isn't that just like you? Need determines importance.

Rain is coming in through the open window. I hear the rolling thunder. I feel the cool breeze. I wonder, and I imagine how things could have been different. I am not one of those gurus. I don't have the answers to her questions. I cannot fill the void in her life. Certain qualities and characteristics of our humanity are left entirely up to us. Honesty and truth. Virtue and dignity. Loyalty and respect. We can't rely on others to display these. It is our responsibility. We make a choice, and we live with the consequences.

We are always becoming something. I do not let my past define me. I don't cling to a vague image of who I thought I was, or what life was like. I have become quite philosophical. Though not in an arbitrary sense. You see, I believe that life is simple. Life is easy. Happiness is achievable. It is just that we tend to complicate matters. We rush, worry, and fret. Work becomes our life. We live to work. We try to impress. We want to be liked and to belong. The value of others has more influence on our actions than those closest to us.

We put up with friends who are substandard. We work in jobs we don't like. We tolerate corrupt governments that lie and lie and lie. We indulge in populist politics. We thrive on drama and upheaval. Quite simply, because the misery of others gives us comfort.

The heart may feel, the mind may think, yet when the leak is discovered, we all sink. Yet, this is not how I feel. I am content. I have lived an honorable life. I have created. I have given. I have nurtured. I have taught. I have guided. I have defended. I have helped. I have consoled.

Though my children have grown, I'm still learning to be a father. I'm learning to be a friend. I'm learning to be a partner and a lover. It is just that I believe I will run out of time.

I am not in pursuit of perfection. I consider perfection a myth. An unattainable ideal. When we measure one another against this myth, surely it is no surprise that we are unhappy. We judge and ridicule. We belittle and accuse. We divert blame, ignore guilt, and make light of shame.

Rain is still falling. Ever so gently, it caresses the earth. I hear the birds in chorus singing a sweet delight. Night is rapidly approaching, and my mood changes. I catch up with the world and feel ashamed. It is as I expected. War, famine, and disease. Natural disasters, lies, and greed. I have said, as I have heard it said before, that I'll stay in my lane and focus on my corner of the world. Accusations are hurled. Whoever screams the loudest wins. Then they claim the ownership of virtue and the morality of sin.

Meanwhile, I work hard. I worry, and I fret about the future for my children and their children. As much as I try to, I don't understand. External forces try to get you to commit to a cause. You must be something. Labels are important. What is your identity? What is your contribution to the discussion? You are either with us or you are with the enemy.

This is my world. This is your world, it is a world that belongs to our children, and this is the best we can do.

Perhaps I am the reason she left. I was predictable and reliable. I was steady and boring. I offered her no excitement.

I don't believe I will ever love again. Love is the greatest ideal. Yet these perfections do not exist. People are more prone to wickedness than righteousness, and they seek to satisfy an urge at the expense of morality.

I see the world in contrasting shades of the same colour, yet I absorb the beauty of a rainbow and the majesty of a sunset. These things I have come to learn give me reason to pause, breathe, and know.

If only I could start again.

Why can't I?

My past does not determine my future.

There is only now.

What I choose to do reflects what I want to achieve.

Don't we all want to live happily ever after?