I lost what I most needed, and kept what I least wanted

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The things I lost are legion.

 

My best friend. 

 

The belief that I was your best friend.  Whew…I never got on her scoreboard!  But I believed I was at the top for a long time anyway.

 

The community we shared, as poorly matched to my needs as they all were.  Thanks for suggesting I be less angry, guys.  What part of that did you think was helpful, or in my best interest?  What would I have gained had I been able to follow that mindless and often sexist advice?  Nothing.  You had been gone for years and didn't change your behavior when I calmed down in 2012.  And I would have sold the last remaining corner of my soul, placating a monster. 

 

My self-respect.  Like I want to be with someone when I'm number 7 on her "favorite sexual partners" list.  "I have an opening for you the third week of September, honey!"  Wow, did that open marriage proposal traumatize me.  At that moment, I became a victim.  You are not trauma informed, which still seems like a shocking problem in your line of work.  What do I know.  I'm a depressed heartbroken mess.  Easy to ignore.

 

My family.  I lost that.  You accelerated the death of two cats to get even with your "partner."

 

The ability to trust.  I was pure as snow on the trust issue with you.  And I got hurt by your abuse of my naivite.

 

My home.  It's gone.  It would have been easier if it had burned to the ground—then I wouldn't feel like I was stupid to build it with you. I don't know where I'll be living after July.  I don't care.  Will I have a roommate?  Will I be alone forever? 

 

My mental health.  I cry an average of six times a day.  In rare cases, crying gives me the release it did when I grieved for the loss of my parents.  Crying over our marriage offers no release because you can only grieve the loss of something worthy of love and honor.  Our marriage was trash.  Garbage.  You don't grieve over what's sitting on the curb, waiting to be tossed in the crusher.  I never experience authentic love, sharing, truth, trust, passion—you didn't have that to offer.  You only had judgement to offer, and of course backstabbing disdain.  (When I was not in the room, what % of the time—be honest with yourself—did you talk positively about me?  According to the reports I've received over the last two years, I believe the answer is zero.  All you did was complain, for decades.) 

 

My respect for women who enable you.  Really.  Women can't identify you as unqualified need to up their game.  I got trashed by your cadre of career sexists.  The non-sexist women we knew appear to have turned their backs on you.  What a horror show—these are women who stayed under our roof, who shared their stories, who I tried my best to support. (And, by the way, who I was FAR nicer to than you ever were!  The amount of shit you leveled at every one of them, including your new partner Caroline who should be my single best ally by now.)  I have no idea what motivates your sisters to behave like that.  Check your brain at the door.  Let's gang up on David!!!  He has a penis, he's in pain, he's hurt, scared and angry--and he's laying in the gutter!!!  Kick the motherfucker in the head!!!  (Sorry, Deb and Kim.)

 

My respect for you.  Look at the advisors you choose.  That absolutely incompetent couples counselor?  Your vocabulary-challenged legal team?  Your "mentor-of-the-month" long tail?  Your marketing advisory firm?  I may be ruined as a man, but I still have my IQ.  I made you smarter every time we interacted.  I failed to improve your morals or ability to love authentically.  I failed every possible way with you, to be honest.  I failed myself worse than I failed you.

 

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