"When the days, they seem to fall through you, well just let them go..."

It's late evening of the 29th. I just realized that I'm in the vicinity of the two year anniversary of my divorce. Looking back over my archives, it was October 19, 2005.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Well, this morning happened. Now it's evening. Has anything really changed? No, not really... only on paper, and her last name, her maiden restored. I'll not go into any detail because, frankly, it was a very personal moment. All I'll say is that it was not a big occasion at all, but rather more internally moving for all present.

What I am thinking about, though, is again wondering what changed? I feel a bit different, but I'm sure that will wear off. Really, did the marriage end this morning? I don't think so. What ended was the government's recognition of our marriage. Ask any gay couple who have been together for years, and will stay together monogamously for the rest of their lives. They'll tell you they're married, despite the government's refusal to acknowledge. And how many people with rings on their fingers will tell you that the relationship with their spouse hasn't been a real marriage for quite a while?

My marriage on paper dissolved this morning, but the real marriage ended long ago. Still, I feel a certain lightness... and more alone than ever before.

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But, after writing that, I decided to walk to Kroger and cash in my pocketful of change, figuring that if I had enough, I would walk over to Avalanche for a beer or two. Turns out I had $3.83. Hmm... what to do? I could go to the Royal Wok next door for some dumplings. I could go and waste it on one single beer. (no thank you) I even thought about buying a pumpkin and carving it. Instead, I bought a 2-litre of Diet Cherry Coke, and walked over to Hollywood Video for a Sundance-y, wonky, chick-flicky, romantic comedy. The other day I rented Me And You And Everyone We Know, and it turned out to be the most off-kilter romantic movie. Aside from a couple of dodgy scenes, I loved it to pieces.

I pick up the mischeviously titled "Amy's O", and walk back home, movie and pop in grocery bag swinging back and forth. So I'm sitting here in my pj's, sipping my pop, and thus far (as I'm taking an intermission to cook something), it's turning out to be a delightful little movie. What a pleasant evening this has become. :-)

I used to be such a poet. What happened?