The truth is, I'm not very smart.
Yes, I have awards and medals and degrees. I have a 3.9-something GPA and I belong to an honors association or two. That doesn't make me smart - just determined. Stupidly determined. And frankly, I'm not sure if all those little pieces of bullshit are proof of any significant acheivement, or if they're all just a bunch of fundamentally worthless status symbols whose perceived value has been beaten into my head by a forceful and stubborn society. Yes, someone as forceful as me actually does get shit forced on them. I may hide behind my medals and awards and degrees, but I'm really a big ol' wuss.
I don't know how to reconcile my beliefs and disbeliefs because I'm not really sure what they are any more. Today I found myself sitting at my favorite teahouse, planning to go to yoga or write the rest of my research paper, surrounded by people but completely alone. Might as well spend my time wisely and finish writing up my list of requests for the divorce. Yup, that's me. Matter-of-fact, to-the-point. Logical. And then I found myself in tears.
How the fuck is that logical?
Tears because I was going to miss my ex-husband? No. He could be gone yesterday and I'd slap him on the back and say, "good luck, buddy - call a girl, won'tcha?" Tears because I felt like I was doing the wrong thing? Nope. There's no way it's the wrong thing - even my doctor has established that. Tears because I was sad about the split? Huh-uh. I'm not scared to be alone. At all. Never have - never will.
I was crying because it finally hit me that my life is going to be different. Not just a little different, but completely different. And I was crying because I don't know if I'll ever believe in love again. I initiated this divorce, so I should be ok with it - and, for the most part, I am - but, the truth is, there was no way I could stay in a marriage with someone who didn't love me. And that really fucking hurts. You shell out 5 years of your life to be with a person who once gazed at you as if you were the very moon and stars, who promised to take care of you forever and ever, and then they claim to love you while they neglect you on an hourly basis, laughing at you when you threaten to down a bottle of valium to see if you'll wake up or not, ignoring your pleas for help, disregarding the entire relationship and refusing to repair your life together, either privately or through counseling . . . well, there's just no way that can't hurt a little.
I've never been smart about men. I'm a sucker for a man, but I'm really a sucker for the man that gives me the ego-stroking and support I need and then leaves me alone to handle my own the rest of the time. I get wrapped up in that and I overlook compatibility. Next thing you know, I'm stuck with some short guy when I wanted a tall guy, a quiet guy when I wanted a talkative, funny guy, a remote guy when I wanted an affectionate guy . . . you get the picture.
Yep. Not such a smart cookie some times. And I'm sure everyone knows. After all, I'm pretty much transparent as saran wrap. And some times equally sticky and hard to deal with.