Tuesday, December 15, 2009


So I say to Mrs Zen, have you got a babysitter so we can go out and talk?

Because I asked her maybe three weeks ago if she wanted to do that and she said she did. After all, the bottom line is we have children and we at least have to talk about them. It's been amicable enough. I have put aside bitterness and feel better for it.

No, she says, I can't find a day that suits.
This is why we're not likely to get back together, I say. Which is not polite but it's the truth: the possibility of restructuring our marriage, or even to talk over the things that we still have between us, is not enough for her to get one of her female relatives to sit the kids for a night.
We aren't going to get back together, she says.

Well okay, I'm thinking, but maybe you could have let me know that? I have kept the possibility alive because I think it's a terrible thing that my children should not have a family. I feel sad to think of them living in her dad's house (she'll never move) and me chained to it just the same as ever.

When we moved there, it was for a couple of years max. I was stupid enough not to realise that it would be for my kids' entire childhood. I guess that marriages include all sorts of promises you can break, and each finds a different one's breaking to be unbearable.

So that's that. It's quite apt, I suppose, that our marriage is finally ended because Mrs Zen couldn't be bothered.


At 8:26 am, Anonymous Father Luke said...

Yes, but. . . broken promises are promises yet fulfilled.

But I'm a million miles away, and I haven't a clue. Not really.

All I can wish is all the best.


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