Brassica napobrassica: Public Enemy Number One (rutabaga) wrote,
Brassica napobrassica: Public Enemy Number One
rutabaga

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Bastille Day 2013

Yep, once a year.

Last night, I told Evan I'd been reading old LJ entries. He replied, "I'm so glad I deleted mine." I couldn't imagine willfully erasing any record of my life into which I had put any amount of time--particularly this one. I'm a slacker now in LJ department, but I have so much fun going back to see what ridiculous shit I said ten years ago today. But yesterday, I wasn't looking at old entries that brought back fun memories. I was reading things I'd written about Evan, early on in our relationship--and knowing how things have worked out five years later, I'm regretful I didn't see it sooner.

I am moving out of our apartment on August first.

Our Canadian friends, most of whom we hold in common friendship, have responded strangely to the news. Most have said they're sorry, as if I weren't the one who's chosen to leave. I guess they still can be sorry, but I find it odd. Several have cried, citing the appearance of how well he and I get along, and how very sad they are.

I think Evan, too, doesn't believe there's a problem if we're not at each other's necks. I have spent so many hours attempting to explain that a couple doesn't need to fight 24/7 for there to be serious issues with no apparent means for resolution--that I can still laugh at his terrible puns, call to ask if he needs anything from the store, and do his laundry while desperately feeling there's no option but to end our marriage.

My friends from home have reacted very differently. Most of my pre-Evan friends expressed weird forms of relief upon receipt of the news. Lesley said she was coming to see me and had texted me several ticket prices a minute after we hung up the phone. When I called Clinton and told her I was leaving, she jumped on the offensive. Incredibly, she who's been in California and the Virgin Islands for the past four years, was able to accurately describe the situation based entirely upon her prior experience with our early relationship. It was terrifyingly amazing, and I was stunned the same problems had been in existence and obvious to Clinton as early as 2008.

He says I didn't give him warning that I was feeling this way, as if me asking to see a marriage counselor in 2011 wasn't the first of many, "Hey, we've got problems that will get worse if we don't deal with them now" conversations. NOW he wants to see a counselor, NOW he wants to give his unsolicited assistance with my problems, NOW he wants to stay in Canada ...

I'm sure there will be more later. Just barfing up some stuff for now.
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