Today is our wedding anniversary. See you in court.

So today, is our wedding anniversary. I’m not sure how to feel about this. This date has been looming on the calendar for a while and now that it’s here, it just feels weird. We’re in this crazy separated limbo because deep down, we’re both afraid to do what we have to do. Instead, I’m using this day to empower me and take the necessary legal action to put some closure on this whole mess.

I've immersed myself in emotion-provoking music with meaningful lyrics ever since I saw you last. It was the first time I had seen you in a couple months. And although we still share the same last name, we haven’t lived together in seven months. I was panic-stricken at the thought of seeing you. You definitely weren't expecting me. Since this day, your refusal to sign any papers has confused me and I have since discovered your sorry attempt to avoid me by obtaining a new phone inclusive with new number. How soon you underestimate my detective skills and intelligence.

I made a PROS and CONS list about you. The CONS far out-weigh the PROS. There are so many reasons we cannot work, but I can remember days where it seemed like there was no doubt that we could.

You were the first person I ever felt completely secure with. I knew you would never stray. I knew you loved me. I knew you desired me. Yet I continued to sabotage our life together. We had it all. The marriage, the house, friends, jobs, cars. I regret so many of my poor decisions and impulsivities. I resent your avoidance, ambivalence, and your endless supply of Budweiser.

We were a team. You were the brawn, I the brains. I know you remember all the talks we had. You always said that was one of the things we were good at. You showed me things I otherwise would have never seen. I like to think I did the same for you.

And now, we can't even be friends. The hatred your loved ones feel for me, coupled with the strong disdain mine feel for you, make it virtually impossible for us to coordinate any part of our lives together any longer. Let alone the intense resentment we feel towards one another. You resent me for loving another when it was already over between us. I resent you for not having the balls to officially end it and for choosing your addiction over me.

I know you still think about me. We've always "spoken" to one another through song. I know when certain songs surface on the radio, you can't escape the thought of me. I secretly like that you keep getting mail with my name on it because at that precise moment, you are forced to think of me.

Enough time has passed that I'm coming to terms with our separation. And while that last legal thread connecting us will eventually be severed, I fear how I will feel when that final thread is gone. Yet you've also made me believe that I am no longer a good person. You've manipulated your hypocritical wiles to effectively turn the table on everything that transacted between us, taking none of the blame for yourself. I've gone through my stages of grief: anger, guilt, sadness, denial. Have you?

Remember the last time we slow danced? I do. As usual, you were singing off key in my ear. I remember rolling my eyes. I took things like that for granted. Now I wish I could have that moment back. I don't even remember anymore what it feels like to have you touch me. Your constant physical touch provided a lot of affirmation for me. I'm not so sure anymore. You know I hate being unsure. You also know I hate change. You've had to press on and provide for yourself. You always had more drive than I did. I've had the luxury of taking a few steps back and time for myself with little to no responsibilities.


I looked up to you in so many ways. After a while, I became disappointed. Now thanks to you, I quickly skip over certain TV channels and NASCAR races. I don't listen to country music at all anymore because I know you still do. Certain grocery stores make me sick to walk into because of you. My heart falls into my stomach whenever I see an orange truck. I can't even tell you the last time I listened to "our song".

I long for us to be on the same wavelength we used to surf together on all the time. After I left you that day, I was traveling on snow-covered roads remembering how you used to call me at work to tell me to be careful on the way home. At that precise moment, my mind sent you the same message. Did you get it?

Alas, all of my wishes cannot come to fruition. I would at least be happy to know that from time to time, you think fondly of times we shared, and remember the good you loved about me. I think those things of you. Our inside jokes, our morse code by squeezing one another's hand, our nicknames, the good ole futon days and Hostess cupcakes. I know you well enough to know your bitter tone is just a front, especially after I found out you wanted to take your own life this past Christmas. You’re too damn stubborn for your own good. You’re too afraid to let your guard down.

The hardest is knowing the house we used to share is up for sale. It breaks my heart to know I abandoned not only the house, but also us. I sabotaged the good we had in exchange for what? Every single day, I wish things could just reverse themselves, to the good times at least. I know there isn’t anyone out there like you and when I reflect on your good qualities, it felt like you and I were supposed to be a forever thing. Yet I know better that this certainly wasn’t entirely my fault. I’ve let you make me believe it was for way too long. Now I know that my need to put my wants and needs on a pedestal are not unreasonable. It’s what I deserve.

You’ve gone out of your way to cut off all communicative ties with me. Yet my confusion lies in the fact that although you won’t talk to me or see me, in the eyes of the law, we’re still as one. This is the hardest for me to wrap my mind around and I sometimes feel as if I still hold some entitlement to you because of this. I wish we could just talk. I wish you had the balls to face me without running away or avoiding your problems. I wish you’d let down your walls and stop being so damn stubborn. I wish you’d admit that these past few years weren’t just a fluke. I need to hear you miss it too.

So as I sign this formal complaint for divorce to file at the courthouse, I bid you a happy anniversary and a fond “see you in court, m-effer!”