An Open Letter To My Soon-To-Be Ex-Husband: Or, Another Rambling and Insipid Breakup Story

I’ve been spending the last several months becoming acquainted with the tangles and turns and trials of divorce, something that came wildly out of the blue when my kindred soul, my heart’s desire, my “soul mate,” as they’re called, had a seemingly spontaneous psychotic break or manic episode or cataclysmic panic attack, or some combination of all three.  Or perhaps he became possessed by a dybbuk, I don’t know.  It happened suddenly one night during the balmiest part of summer, as suddenly as we had originally met and fell smack on our faces in love the summer before.  He became enraged at something horrible and unforgivable I had done I couldn’t figure out what and lost his temper, his impulse control, his fundamental faculties for reason, and then finally lost any recognizable semblance or trait of who I’d always known him to be, his mind, whatever.  Then he threw me out of the house, 8 months after our wedding, ultimately believing me to have become a terrible evil wench or something.  Now there is a small town, a restraining order, and an indefinitely lasting injunction between us, as there has been for the last six months, which has been the same amount of time since I last saw him, raving as if he were rabidinous and foaming at the mouth, degenerated from a gentle, sensitive man so rapidly and inexplicably I wasn’t sure whether it was I who was losing it.    Continue reading

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