This piece is something that is deeply personal for me. It
is not the usual tirade of explicatives and rage fueled rants you have come to
know. I struggled with the idea of even posting this, but I decided to say fuck
it and go for it. You may not want to read about a different side of my
personality, if not, stop reading this and fuck off… That is your prerogative.
In my life…
In my opinion, the digital versions of literary work will
never beat an actual book… for that matter, a magazine, or newspaper
either. I actually feel sad for today’s
generation of kids. The connection with a book, or the feeling a book can give
you is something they may never get to experience with their dependence on
digital technology. For me, there is just something magical about holding book
when you are in the depths of reading a good story. It just makes it seem like
you are physically attached to the book as if it were one of your appendages,
you don’t want to put the book down... Especially when you make a personal
connection to the story you are reading. Fuck the tree huggers and the
environmentalists, I’ll plant a few fucking trees to replace the ones that it
takes to make the books that I read.
Recently, I finished reading ‘The Average American Marriage’
by Chad Kultgen, and I can honestly say that I felt a connection with this
book, as I did with its predecessor, ‘The Average American Male: A Novel’. The
words contained within these books, ‘Marriage’ especially, were all too
familiar with me. It brought emotions out of me, described feelings that I had
experienced and were written in a way as if I were the one putting them down on
paper. The words that Kultgen wrote made me reflect on my life since they
resonated with me.
These two stories by Kultgen are told through the mind of an
unnamed narrator, who could be construed as an anti-hero… An asshole. I believe
that Kultgen left the narrator nameless so the “Average American” male can
identify with the character and put themselves in these same scenarios as if
they were in them or have already lived them out. If my theory on the author’s intent is
correct, mission accomplished!
(Spoiler Alert! Do not read any further if you do not want
to know anything about the story) In ‘The Average American Marriage’, the
narrator returns, but as an unhappily married man in his mid-thirties who ends
up cheating on his wife with a younger, more attractive intern. His actions
ruin his marriage, force him to reevaluate his life and he finds that after an
initial euphoric feeling of reliving his youth, discovers that the normal life
he had grown to know and loathe was something he had valued more than he
realized.
As I have written before, I am divorced, but that was not a
result of me cheating on my now ex-wife. I had other demons I was battling which
contributed to the demise of my marriage. I have grown to accept that as fact,
there is nothing I can do to change that either. My marriage became complacent
as our anti-hero’s had, but that was because of the psychological issues I
neglected to deal with. I was dead inside.
The narrator was able to go back to his marriage after
cheating on his wife; he was able to go back to some semblance of his version
of normal even though it was not the same in the end. I was not so fortunate,
and part of me regrets that while another part is thankful that I have found
inner peace that has made me a better person, a responsible adult. I am not
sure if I would have ever gotten to where I am right now without going through
my divorce.
My variation of “normal” was not enough for my then wife. I
do not blame her, she deserved more, but I was not in any position to give it
to her. I was content being a father, and a shitty, unmotivated husband. I was
broken as a person, and even after the death of my first born son, found that
rock bottom was even a few steps lower than I had previously imagined. My
divorce showed me that there was a floor after all, it was rock bottom, and
after all of that, I still was not at a point to get the help that I
desperately needed.
In ‘Marriage’, the narrator talks about feeling alive again
once he started fucking his 21 year old intern. Oddly enough, I am in my
mid-thirties and had a relationship with an intern who happened to be that same
age as the anti-hero’s mistress after my divorce. For a while, I felt that same
euphoric feeling of “being alive” again when I was with her. It felt amazing to
feel wanted, to be with someone new, someone who knew nothing of my horrific
mental state and who was younger and out of my league. She was intelligent, understanding,
compassionate, accommodating to a fault, humorous and beautiful… The total
package. She was someone that I should have held on to, but could never commit to.
With my past experiences and in my frail mental state, I believed that relationships
were meant to fail. Friendships, in my mind, were much more valuable. I was
temporarily happy with her, but she wanted a future that I could not give her. She deserved more, a better than the life I could offer her.
It became evident to me, I was still broken.
Since this realization, I have sought out help through
counseling and my struggles have been aided with prescription medicine. After
starting this new get well regiment, I feel like a completely “normal” person,
with the exception of my twisted views and opinions on life. I do live with the
regret of my marriage being a failure, but there is nothing I can do about that
now. The feelings of love and lust for my ex-wife have dissipated. The feelings
that I had once felt for her have now been replaced with tolerance. We have
just become two separate people, who share the responsibility of raising a
child. Yes, I hate not being with my son everyday, but I have grown to accept
that. Just hear me out about why.
I respect my ex-wife for being the mother of my children,
I will always be
there to assist her and she will always have a place in my heart for that fact. But, there is nothing buried within
my soul that would ever want to be with her in a relationship again. Things would
never be the same as some things can never be repaired with hard work... No matter
what some relationship “experts” may suggest. I could not picture living a life
of depression and misery as our anti-hero in the book returned to after what
you might call a reconciliation with his wife. I have battled depression, and I
am winning. I would never want to return to that dark place I have emerged
from.
After all that has been said and done between my ex-wife and
I, there is still a love that I have for her, but it not a describable love. I
cannot really put it into words the feelings that have manifested within me. In
a roundabout way, she changed me as a person, which indirectly saved my life. I
am not a spiritual person, but fate may have intervened when I met her. Because
of how she affected me, my life changed. I became a father, an adult… A better
person. My life until the age of 30 had no purpose. I had no direction and was
on a collision course with an early demise. Because of my life with my ex-wife,
I found a path. I had gotten an education, found a career, and have become a
damn good parent if I do say so myself.
The reflection that I just penned is all relative to the
power of reading and the impact it can have on a person. And, because of the influence
one person can have on someone, like what my ex-wife had done for me as a person,
I will always have a love for her. I dedicate the following lyrics to her… I
danced with my mother to this song at my wedding and I almost find it funny and
ironic how I have found a new place for this song… in my life.
“In my life”
By: The Beatles
There are
places I remember
All my
life, though some have changed
Some
forever not for better
Some have
gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With
lovers and friends
I still
can recall
Some are
dead and some are living
In my life
I've loved them all
But of all these friends and lovers
There is
no one compares with you
And these
memories lose their meaning
When I
think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people
and things that went before
I know
I'll often stop and think about them
In my life
I love you more
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people
and things that went before
I know
I'll often stop and think about them
In my life
I love you more
In my life
I love you more
2 comments:
Still a faggot.
That's the best you have... Anonymously calling me a faggot? Homoerotic replies are for the simpleminded. You're pathetic!
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