We Are All Sensitive People

No one gets married hoping for divorce. We’re all convinced that there’s something different about our relationships…that we have what it takes to make it work. We have to…with an intimidating average divorce rate of about 40%…how could we not? We want to get married, don’t we? We don’t want to get divorced. None of us.

That being said.

It’s inevitable that some marriages end in divorce, as sad as the fact is. I’ve just learned that two people very close to me will be getting divorced. Despite the fact that I agree it’s necessary because of everything that has happened in their marriage, it’s still devastating.

When my parents got divorced, I was 12 and I was straight-faced through the entire ordeal. What happened?  Nothing. I didn’t lose my faith in marriage. I didn’t believe it could never work. It didn’t affect me at all.

I never believe in excuses or cop-outs. My life has been riddled with deeply-felt disappointment, pain, horribly intentioned individuals and the best intentioned that still hurt me throughout. Who hasn’t? I’m not telling you about my “hard-knock life,” I’m telling you that all of us experience the deepest pain we’ve ever known…because it’s all we have ever known. Those pains do affect us, whether we are ready to admit it or not.

My parents’ divorce did affect me. My behavior in high school was shaped by the absence of my dad, however you decide to take that. I was promiscuous. I smoked. I was eager to grow up. I was ready to prove that my family’s unusually high number of divorces wasn’t going to shape who I was and how I loved (only three couples are still married and one was married until death did them part out of both sides).

Enter scene. Tonight. Eating the most delicious Parmesan chicken you can imagine, hearing that these two people will be divorced. It’s no surprise. It’s necessary. There’s nothing to save.

Act 1, scene 2. Back home. Isaiah leaves the room to play around with Garage Band so we can record some new stuff. I want to help. He doesn’t want my help. I panic, leave the room.

We fought. I shut down, which is actually not normal for me. Our Chicagoan nature comes out most when we fight…always ends up lasting about one hour on the dot. Make up. We are both eager to apologize all the time. Tonight, Isaiah had no idea what to apologize for…and I would be damned if I was going to say sorry first.

Some other day, when my eyes aren’t a little red from the aftermath of confronting my feelings, I’ll tell you how we fight and why I think it’s a major reason our relationship will last until the end. However, tonight was not a good example of that. Tonight was the after-prom, epitome of high school fight.

Flash forward to the end of mostly silence from me for an hour…Isaiah cuddling my frigid back and wanting me to talk to him. Me saying “leave me alone” repeatedly. Yeah, real mature, I know.

Me: We’re watching a divorce unfold because two people do everything completely separate from each other and one has never apologized in the history of the marriage! And you, somehow, managed to do both.

Isaiah: Aww…honey. We’re not them…

Me: I know {Insert a few misplaced tears}…just…my feelings… (Boo-hoo, I know)

Isaiah: sings “We are all sensitive people…”

Me: Cracks up laughing, hits him with pillow.

[end fight]

He really knows everything about me.

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