NOTE: As I mentally deconstruct the demise of my marriage, I am publishing a series of short essays about things that happened, the way I felt, and so on. It's intended to illustrate my mental state at the time, and provide a kind of chronicle of my emotional state, hopefully helping me not make the same mistakes in future relationships.

6/9/03 5:17 PM: One of the really refreshing things about the process of healing from a catastrophic breakup is the realization that you were right all along, or at least considerably less responsible for the crisis than you believed (i.e. no matter what you would have done, it was meant to go this way). Now, I recognize that this newfound belief could be wholly delusional, and may even be completely wrong, but it's where I'm at right now.

I've had a lot of really refreshing feedback on what I've written. An artist from Philly I work with said, and I quote, "I couldn't help but being struck at feeling like I was in a parallel universe because you described things that are SOOOOOOOOOOO similar to what happened with my ex and myself. Geez, I hadda stop reading after awhile 'cause it all hit too close to home. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought that you'd opened the top of my head and poured my thoughts out on paper. Thinking, 'Did we marry the same woman?!?! How was she in the same place at once?' I found it interesting the similarities in which women choose to be cowards at their convenience. Unfortunately, I know of 3/4 other couples who are going thru this and in all of those situations, the man is the one who'd been committed to that woman and she was trying to weasle out of the relationship and any sense of responsibility. It's scary to think that this kind of thing happened to us and somebody, somewhere else is going through it at the same time."

My brother Inpu was so moved by the work that he wants to share the completed set of essays with his ex-wife, a short Virgo so similar to my own wife both of us are scared by it. He told me that it just feels like I am alone in this, that brothers everywhere are experiencing similar pain in similar cirumstances, and can benefit from my examination of this transformation.

My "cousin" Daniel remarked how many men he knows who feel the same way -- cast for a role, not chosen for themselves. Men, when they finally surrender to committment, decide to accept the woman warts and all, no matter the issue (for the most part, of course things like pyromania or a Glenn-Close-Fatal-Attraction sort of tendency can't be overlooked). So many men, Daniel theorized, feel doubly betrayed because of the replacable nature of their role. Given some things I accepted (details of which would be really embarrassing for her, so I'll keep them private), that point is particularly galling.

Lest you believe it's just men telling me this stuff, let me be clear that I've done some research. I've mentioned my conversations with my "big sister" Marsha, whose told me about the healing these essays have helped foster in her marriage, things she didn't realize she was doing, things that discussing with her husband Omar began to fix. She actually thinks I'm being way too forgiving in all of this, but she's really protective of me, which I really appreciate.

I've known Ana since probably 1992, but for a long time I had the idea she didn't like me. We're not exactly busom buddies now, but we're closer. Back when I was only seven or so columns in, she raved about how good they were and how they should be collected. She told me that they threw a spotlight on things in her marriage and, again, helped her begin to resolve those issues.

Regina Davis is a publicist I've known for years. We had lunch, and she grilled me on my situation. After hearing many of the things noted here (sans some of the details which I supposedly should have kept quiet about), she told me, "That sister wasn't ready to be married. It wasn't important enough to her, and therefore neither were you. You're better off without her."

Then there's what's left of my relationship with Yuri herself. I printed out every column, save "Dog" and ... one other that I felt duplicated some points (I will edit these more before I ever publish them). Anyway, I gave her all (at the point) thirteen columns. She said her only reaction was anger that I didn't check with her before revealing details about her private and family life. Something inside me felt like it was rubbing the back of my neck and saying, "there there, Hannibal, see, she was wrong for you all along, any woman who could glaze over all that and get stuck on one thing is not what you believed."

So I've been pretty damned chipper lately because I feel like I am a lot less culpable than I was telling myself I was. My crimes, in order (according to what she's told me), are ...

• Not cleaning up the house (truly her biggest gripe in terms of frequency, and she doesn't want to admit I am less of a slob than I was in my apartment, just I never lived up to her idea of what I should be doing)
• Not getting my credit straightened up in a timeframe she felt was appropriate, but never saw fit to confirm with me
• "Pushing her past her boundaries," to the point where she cursed me out shortly after we made the break
• Being hypercritical of her joys (i.e. saying I wanted to pave over the yard when her gardening made her "too tired" to spend time with me)
• Being brusque in discussing the job that she really enjoys (i.e. saying it kicked her in the face on a daily basis and other things that she'd actually said to me)
• Being mean to my friends (not hers, but bagging on and dissing my friends with jokes and referring to them regularly as "dumbasses")
• Not being by her side when her father had his cancer surgery. Really, I do feel pretty awful about this, but I was dealing with things in the best manner I knew, and even through that, this was messed up. I'll take the "L" for this one.

... and for that, I broke her trust to the point she can't be married to me. No cheating, no beating. Okay. I'm not saying my list of her war crimes is more severe, or even unforgiveable, I'm just saying that all around, it's a pretty flimsy case for tossing side marital vows. I'm amazed that either nobody said that to her, or she never agreed if someone did. Makes it look like, as I've said, she'd been leaving me for a long time due to issues completely unrelated to me, and was just waiting for an out.

Ya know what? Cool.

I've already said I think that such a stance is pretty wussy, but again, in my newfound sense of personal justification, I'm actually glad it went down this way. I mean, a woman who thinks sex once every three months is okay? A woman who said she was "bound" to me "stronger than any obstacle we may come upon" who essentially never really fought her way through any of our common bad times? I'm ecstatic to be on my way out of here. As much as I still love her and as much as I'm still attracted to her, she's ... just not good for me to be around. That thought, hovering in the front of my head every time I see her or notice something that reminds me of her, has made the separation almost pleasant (especially considering the agonizing nights I spent staring at her back, waiting for something to happen. Admittedly, not my finest hour, but hey, love makes you stupid).

I believe she's probably in a similar place, making her own justifications (which is funny to me, strangely enough). I can't know for certain, as she won't really talk to me about what's going on in her life. My therapist suggested I keep up trying to talk to her, trying to be open to her. The only avenue she left for that is notes in the front of the house where she picks up the mail. So I've written her, told her how I'm doing, told her I'd like to know more about her experience, maybe hear more of her journal entries. No response. I've effectively been ostracized from her emotional life in a time when every possible authority says that constant, honest communication is the way to keep the divorce moving smoothly along. Right.

So by July I'll be in a new apartment, one she doesn't know the address to, and I'll be happy, alone. Almost giddy, really. I've really started to enjoy spending time alone. My withdrawal from physical contact is lessened, both by the fact that women are hitting on me again (which feels so good after feeling unwanted for so long) but more because I remember that I like my solitude. I like talking to myself without feeling self-conscious, finding things right where I left them, waking up when I feel like it. Living my own life again. The more I go along, the more I wonder how I could have ever given up such an existence (she was hot, she seemed together, she was all over me, writing me poetry, right, right, I remember ...).

Acceptance is the fourth step in grieving. I realized, driving a few days ago, that Yuri moved back into a house with a dog that she's allergic to, one that must be wreaking havoc on her respiratory system. I then realized I didn't care, any more than she probably cares that her phone wakes me up. A lot. I look at things now, believing she was in love with a fantasy and I was in love with a memory. A new chance to move on, without illusions. More capable of not being swept away by the tides of emotion and romance.

Glorious in my rediscovered freedom, and really, I have Yuri to thank for it. Ain't that a kick in the head?