The Two Rules of Surviving Divorce (Everything Else is Relative)
Christopher Lake

My marriage of three and one-half years ended about fourteen months ago. In that time I learned more about myself - about life, about love and relationships - than in all of my previous 31 years on the planet combined. That may be a bit of an exaggeration, but I nonetheless learned acceptance and grace better than I could have in any monastery. (And I've been to those places too.) I became something resembling self-aware - and entirely without Scientology, too. Most significantly I met Belinda, the woman I should have been with all along.

For that last point alone some might say I should thank my ex. Actually, I have - many times, in fact. More times than I can count in email, at least once in the course of a late-night phone conversation, and one more time while we sat in front of my apartment and chain-smoked because I was afraid to let in her inside. Those are only the times I can remember. And every one was a mistake.

I suppose some of us who've been divorced have kept in touch with exes and everything's been cool - but I've never met any of these people. Rule number one, it would seem to me, of surviving a divorce is to not stay in touch with your ex. Unless there are children involved, I can't think of a single good reason for it. Don't email, don't talk on the phone, don't agree to lunch meetings that they can then cancel at the last minute, etc. In my own case it prolonged the getting-on-with-it process, wrecked havoc with my post-divorce relationships, and generally made things suck for way longer than they would have otherwise.

(You don't have to worry about their feelings anymore - that's why you got divorced. Or at least that's one of the benefits. They can hate your guts and it's OK. Really.)

Rule number two is for those who've ended up in possession of the marriage residence: call a cleaning service. If you can do it yourself, fine, but just make sure you remove every last trace of your last relationship before moving on to the next one. I for one was able to clean house myself - it just took about three months for a one-bedroom apartment. But I did it. Isn't there's something vaguely Confucian about this, i.e., an organized-home-leading-to-an-organized-something-else? But it just makes sense. Nothing throws ice water on things like post-divorce Girlfriend #2 reaching under the futon while you're rolling around on the floor and pulling out a pair of panties you'd forgotten about. And if Girlfriend #2 is OK with this - or even turned on by it - promptly progress to Girlfriend #3.

I can hear what you're thinking: a lot of "post-divorce" girlfriends, eh? Yeah. And so what. This doesn't constitute a hard-and-fast rule (because its appropriateness depends entirely upon your temperament/readiness), but I for one found that it worked. In other words, date! I realize it runs counter to the "take a year off" school of thought, and former in-laws loathed me for it - but it's how I got over my divorce. I mean, if you crash your car, do you take the next ten months off from driving? Maybe if you're in Intensive Care you would, but otherwise I doubt it. So get back on the blacktop.

There could be more rules, but I'll leave it at that. My purpose here isn't to make a list - of things I've learned (which most of us already know anyway), of women I dated after the divorce, whatever... All I'm trying to say is this: if you're with the One right now, regardless of what you had to go through to get there (cheat on someone, get cheated one, dodge a speeding train), hold on to them like life itself depended on it. Because it does. And how do you know they're "the one"? Well, can you remember when you thought you loved someone else? Can you remember those feelings? If you can't, you probably never really did. Every day now is Thanksgiving. And New Year's. And the Fourth of July. Don't forget it.

For me, I suppose it all came together when I began to realize I was looking forward more than I was looking backward. I had gone through the therapy and the cheap sex and the easy alcoholic camaraderie and it dawned on me that I was happy. It's like the moment when someone who deals with chronic pain no longer feels that pain. It takes some time for them to realize it's not there anymore. That's all.

But I was happy for a reason, which is basically my whole point: Don't thank your ex - thank the one you're with. Thank the one who's going to keep you warm tonight. Thank the one whose face you'll see tomorrow morning... And how did I meet the woman who taught me what real love is in the first place? Well, all I can think of is that Seinfeld episode where George Costanza decides for whatever reason to do the exact opposite of what he'd always been doing. Suddenly his life no longer sucks. Knowing when to change strategy often matters more than the strategy itself.

As for the ex, there are no bad feelings. There probably should be, but there aren't. Each of us are left ultimately with the lives we create; Karma exists as much for the dude driving to the Kabalah Center right now in his PT Cooper as for the Born-Again Bubba in BFE pushing his Chevy off to the side of the road. Maybe some of us out there can do coffee at Starbucks and talk about jobs and kids and the latest depressing political news (wars lost before they were even started, etc.), but for the ex and I this is as close to a reconciliation as we'll ever achieve. And, speaking for myself, it's more than sufficient.


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