It looks like my Cautionary Marriage is nearing its end. It’s hard to say what’s changed in the last few days, but both of us are realizing that we’re not meeting each other’s needs, and there’s really no reason to live the rest of our lives this way. We’re getting together tonight to hammer out the details of what the next few months will bring.
During lunch I was eating my Boston-creme-pie-flavored light yogurt and flipping through the most recent J. Crew catalogue, all the while trying to picture divorce in my head. I’ve actually spent the greater part of the last five months trying to picture divorce in my head. Some of the pictures are of shame and loneliness, some are of freedom and possibility, but all of them are terrifying.
I usually look through only the women’s section of the catalogue, but for some reason I turned to then men’s section, and the sight of one of the model’s hairy legs broke my heart. They reminded me of Cautionary Husband’s hairy legs. I love his hairy legs. I wanted to build a life with those hairy legs. And while those hairy legs aren’t enough to keep our marriage together, I can’t imagine a life without them in bed next to my own legs every night.