My marriage is over.
We’ve been having problems for some time. Years, in all honesty. But the last straw happened on 9/11/19. We got in to an argument. Afterwards, I asked her if she wanted me to leave. She said “yeah.”
I’ve endured the worst part; it took about a week for the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach to stay away. Considering we’ve been together for 19.5 years, that actually seems too easy. It lends credence to the idea that we hung on too long.
I don’t want to get into details. I’m usually wide open and brutally honest about my life and my feelings within these pages, but this defines “personal.” I may share more with those closest to me, but probably not. Marriages end. It happens. I didn’t expect it to happen to me, but I can’t say I’m surprised.
(warning…this is where there may be self pity and/or bitter truth)
If I look at my life objectively, it’s not difficult for me to say I’ve failed at nearly everything I’ve tried. Yes, I’ve done some good things and accomplished a few goals, but the list seems terribly short. Even my Twenty Aught Eight project where I wrote, recorded and released a new song every week for a full year didn’t do what I hoped. It didn’t even come close. I wanted it to give me a real start to a solid career in music.
Yes, I wrote 52 songs, some of which I love dearly - and some don’t hold up that well - and yes, I learned a lot about the crafts of songwriting, arranging, recording, mixing, etc. But in the end, the true goal wasn’t met. Does that make the whole thing pointless? Of course not. But, it was a failure.
Every romantic relationship I’ve had has ended, usually poorly. At least with my marriage, we’ve remained civil. As I type this, I’m still living with her. More what’s next later. I suppose every relationship is pretty much doomed to failure, unless you happen to find someone that ends up being a life mate. I thought I had one. I waited until I was 33 to get married; I felt good about the decision. 17 years later, I’m going to be divorced, on the downside of my life, with almost nothing to show for my 50 years on this planet - in terms of success.
Yes, I’ve written many songs, and a book. The book isn’t published yet; I expect it will be sometime next year. I can’t say for sure when partly because I don’t know when I’ll have access to a decent recording space for the audio book. But nothing I’ve done has brought me anything even resembling financial success or security. Does it have to? I suppose not. I’ve proven I’ll keep trying, even after I “quit.”
But god fucking dammit. It would be nice to do something I enjoy for a living; something I’m passionate about. I figure I have maybe 20 years of life left; I better get busy and put stuff out there if it’s going to happen.
I’ve had difficulty maintaining platonic relationships. I can think of maybe four people I consider close friends; none of whom live in WI. They’re in AZ, CA & WA.
That’s right. I’ve lived in WI for 13 years, and I haven’t made a single friend, much less a close one. That’s sad. It says a lot about me. On the plus side, I don’t think I have any enemies - people who actively seek to do me harm, so I guess that counts for something.
I could go on about those issues, but I don’t see the point. I’m not as depressed or miserable as this may sound. In fact, I’m cautiously optimistic about what comes next. Why?
I’m moving back to AZ. I’m not sure if this will post before or after I get there. I started typing it on Wed 10/9/19 because I wanted to say my piece before I packed away my Mac, and I don’t know when I’ll find the time and motivation to begin posting regularly again. In any case, my last day at my job will be Monday, 10/14/19. I’m going to start driving back to AZ on Wed 10/16/19. Google Maps states the drive takes 26 hours; having just made it in January, that’s about right. I’ve done it 4 or 5 times over the years, maybe more. It usually takes me 3 days and 2 nights. I’d really like to get to Tempe sometime Friday night, but we’ll see. I’ll be staying with my best friend and his family; I’ll keep his name private for now. If it wasn’t for their generosity, I have no idea what I’d be doing. I’d figure it out one way or another, I suppose.
My current plan is to stay with them until I get a job and have enough money to get my own place. Hopefully, it will be sooner than later. I don’t want take advantage of them or wear out my welcome, and I’m probably difficult to live with. How long will it take? I have no idea.
I’ve been applying for jobs for a couple of weeks now. I’ve had a couple of nibbles, but no offers. Ideally, I’ll start working Monday 10/21/19, but that seems unlikely. It seems like the best I can hope for is to set up interviews.
So, this is me. I’m 50, divorcing, unemployed soon, able to put everything I own into a Honda Accord, and I don’t have enough money to rent an apartment.
Yeah, it could be worse. It could also be better.
I won’t be bringing much with me. My guitars and accessories, my Mac, two monitors (I hope), clothes, my receiver and speakers (again, I hope), a couple of posters, some pictures, maybe some movies and CDs, and my dog. Yes, we have 5, but only 1 is truly mine, and my friend is letting me bring the dog into his home.
So…wait…didn’t I say I was cautiously optimistic? Why?
Because I’m going back to a place where I have close friends, and as I’ve said, I don’t make them or keep them easily. I’m also starting over in many ways, and while it’s intimidating, it’s also freeing, and allows for hope to creep into places where it hasn’t been for some time.
You know what hell is? The absence of hope. While I was getting my degree, I had an assignment that required me to write a one act play. I think it’s exceptionally powerful, but I don’t know if I’ve ever shared it on this site. I may at some point. And who knows? Maybe it will see production in some form. It would be interesting. It’s called Hell, and you can guess why. Even back when I wrote it in 2014 or 2015, my marriage and life had serious issues. Maybe I’m finally working through them.
Maybe I can actually learn lessons from my mistakes, and maybe I can live out the rest of my life with some sense of peace, a bit of happiness, and maybe.
New music is still coming, so is my book.
Thank you for reading this, and for whatever support you’ve given me.