Another of my friends just told me she is getting a divorce. That makes her the 3rd in my close field of friends to go through what appears very much to be an inevitable conclusion of marriage in the 22nd century.
The news of her marriage shocked me and I felt the dark shadow of possibility lurk over mine. It seems no matter how hard you try, how hard you love and how far you compromise, there are no guarantees.
One of my uncles who lead the most healthy, Christian life you can imagine has been given two more years to live before, at the age of 67, the cancer in his stomach eats him to his death. Then you have the old ah ma who looked after my sister when we were young who smoked a pack of B & H a day and consumed nothing but sweet thick local coffee, brewed to a deep ominous black. She celebrated her 75th birthday with a fag.
There are just no guarantees and no matter what you do and how hard you try.
In an age where we are driven to surpass our expectations, motivation seems to be the only thing standing between you and that yacht/jet/mansion (source: Adam King of Guinness fame). It is almost alien to accept a concept where nothing you do can affect what is going to happen. You are supposed tobe incontrol of your destiny. Who believes in fate anymore these days?
I have a friend who married his childhood sweetheart and is now coming to grips with a future without her. Another has accepted the end of her relationship but her husband obviously hasn't because he refuses to sign the divorce papers. And now this one. Still loving each other but unfortunately, their lives had grown apart.
I'm at that stage in my life where the passing of time is marked not by the big New Year's Eve bash but by when so-and-so got married, when so-and-so gave birth and so on. My life evolves around my family, my house, my friends mostly of whom are married. Those who aren't pose hypothetical questions about marriage. "Is it better to have married and be divorced or not to have married at all?".
In short, my family is my life and by virtue of relation, my marriage is also my life.
Sure, I try not to lose myself in it but when it comes to priorities, my family rules.
And so many of my divorced or divorcing friends would also have said during the tenure of their marriages.
"It is the coming to terms with the fact that your marriage has failed that is the hardest part", said my friend.
Whilst I do sincerely believe in the finding happiness after a broken relationship, it is the very fact of a marriage ending that I'm not sure I can hack. The admission, the defeat. Sure, you'll get over it, but what happens when it actually happens?
I admire my friend for her courage as I admire my divorced friends, other divorced couples, and indeed my divorced parents for their courage.
Chicken shit like me, I would want to take my son and live a recluse in the South of France and never be in touch with anyone I've ever known. If someone I knew spotted me, I would pretend I spoke no English and run away as fast as I could.
It's the courage of admitting it and then facing up to everyone. Their expectations, their pity, their sorrow, their dashed dreams too. Its like having the carpet of comfort and security beneath you suddenly pulled away and you are faced with a sore bare bum on the cold hard floor.
I would hang on as long as I could, denying that everything around me had fallen apart. And when I do get torn away, I would not even know how to begin to pick up the pieces.
My friends' divorces scare the shit out of me. Whilst I wish them luck and happiness, for I know they will find it, I fear for the safety of mine. Who knows? We have seen no guarantees. Right now I hear Time ticking very loudly before the inevitable occurs.
Laughter one minute. Tears the next.
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