Before 2003, I'd always been the dutiful wife, taking all the verbal abuse, trying to never rock the boat. I never complained for the most part. I picked up dirty clothes strewn all over the house and picked up dirty dishes left on the bedroom nightstand. I dumped out overflowing ashtrays and collected empty scattered beer bottles. My ex was filthy and had grosser habits that I can't even talk about. It was exhausting cleaning up after him. It was particularly tiring when I was working two jobs to try and keep us afloat, while he was going through his period of "trying to figure out" what he wanted to do in life. Over the years, I grew more weary and became resigned to my destiny as his maid and cook. I stopped caring about myself- I gained weight at a rapid pace, I stopped wearing makeup, stopped wearing my contact lenses, and bought big saggy clothes from the discount stores to hide under. And I am embarrassed to admit that on some days (too many) I was so tired in the morning from having worked until 11pm at my night job, that I would stumble into my day job at 7am without having washed my hair or even taken a shower. I didn't care about anything but surviving, there was no joy at all in me. I had started hating myself and my life long before 2003 rolled around.
But with that milestone year, I decided that simple survival wasn't good enough, that I wanted to live, so I changed. Not just the weight loss, but in my head and heart as well. Never in all the years with W had I even looked at another man, especially when I was at my heaviest and frumpiest. But when I realized that it was time to move along and get on with a new phase of my life, I started to cast glances at members of the opposite sex. In 2001 I had quit both my longtime jobs, and went to work at the company I just left this year. It paid too well, and it was 8 to 5, so I was glad for it. I realized I worked around a lot of men, and frankly I hadn't bothered to notice up until that point. And for the first time in a really long time, I started developing crushes. Nothing serious, just oh wow he's actually cute. These were the same men I'd been working around for two years already, but I just woke up and appreciated that they were men and not just coworkers. It made me feel good about myself, to discover that buried spark of life in my gut, and I was surprised how much it lifted my self-esteem.
In the fall of 2003, Fate intervened. One of the managers in another department that I had to work closely with, was in the reserves and he was called to serve in the Middle East. He was going to be gone for a long tour of duty, and so to temporarily replace him, a night shift manager was moved into his daytime job. That night shift manager was J. J and I had been at the same company together for over two years, but we'd never met because of our different schedules. I'd seen his name on reports and on his box in the mail room. He had a very weird last name, and I didn't even know how to pronounce it correctly.
Folks, I hate the phrase love at first sight, because I think it sounds cheesy and unrealistic. But I don't know how else to describe the first time J and I met. He was suddenly at my desk one day, looking for some paperwork. I'd never seen him before, I had absolutely no clue who he was, and on that afternoon he was pissed off about something and didn't even introduce himself to me. I found the invoices he needed, and as I stood there and he stalked away, the girl at the desk beside me said "Oooh, you two are going to have an affair." I swear on everything that is holy, that this is a true story, and those were her exact words. I looked at her and said, "I don't even know who the hell that guy is!" But she saw something on my face apparently as I watched him leave.
I don't know what it was, but inside of me, I knew she was somehow right. When I met J, I was just recently over all my health issues- my kidney stone, my gallbladder, my biopsy. And although I hadn't yet put voice to W that I wanted a divorce, I think my head already knew that was the direction my life was going. The thing is, absolutely no one at work knew how bad my marriage was, and certainly not the coworker in the next cube. So for her to look at me and state emphatically that I was going to have an affair with J, some kind of giant neon arrow must have been flashing over my head. Probably a big scarlet letter A. Without prompting- or permission- my work neighbor went to J and told him she "knew" someone who thought he was cute. Later on, J told me that he was hoping it was me, because he also felt a mutual attraction on that first afternoon.
That was at the very end of September 2003, and J and I embarked on a very flirtatious relationship through emails over the next few weeks. We eventually started hinting to each other that we should meet away from work. But in December J backed away and said he had second thoughts. He knew I was married, and he said after deep reflection he decided that it was not a situation he wanted to get involved in, it was wrong and he wasn't that type of man. I was already madly in love with him by this time, even though we hadn't even had so much as a lunch date. I can't explain it, really. I see shows like "The Bachelorette" and think, how can that dumb woman say she's in love with this guy that she's only known a few weeks and she doesn't really know anything about him?! So okay, it can happen. And I am here ten years later to say it does happen.
If you were to ask me, did I leave W to be with J, the answer would be yes and no. I know I had wanted to leave W for many months by that time, no matter what. But meeting J was the catalyst that got me off my ass and made me know for certain, I was going to have a life after W. When I told W I wanted a divorce, it was just the culmination of all those bad years, those awful moments I'd had with him. True, J and I had not done anything but send flirty emails back and forth- there were no commitments, not even the slightest of promises . But I think I saw what could be, what I could potentially have with J or any other nice guy, were I not still tied to the 200 pound anchor that was dragging me down. And when I saw that one chance, that fleeting moment, starting to pass me by I knew I had to make that choice. Not to "be with" J. But for myself, to save my soul and what was left of my years on this earth. W would have eventually devoured me until I probably would have done something more drastic than divorce him.
A few days after I told W that I was done being his doormat, I told J that my marriage was over and I had asked my husband for a divorce. I wanted to know, could I possibly have a chance with him? Would he ever reconsider his decision not to get involved with me, knowing that although I had to wait out a legal separation, I would no longer be another man's wife? Think what you will of me. I had to take that huge leap before the moment was gone. J could have said no, sorry, I'm not interested. I would still have been okay with the world because I had unburdened myself from W, whether or not my new single life was also going to include a new man. And even though I demanded the divorce, it turns out that was the easiest part of it, and it was only the beginning of a very long up and down two year journey of bliss and heartaches. It took a long time from me being Miss Gee to being Mrs J. And in the two years that I lived alone for the very first time in my life, I grew more as a person and a woman, than I had in the three plus decades leading up to then.
And so on the very last day of 2003, J and I had our first date, a simple lunch in the park where we could finally talk away from work, turn our smiles up to the sun, and get to know each other better. And oh yes, share our first of many many many kisses...
MISS GEE
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