What the f*ck are you looking at?

‘Til Blech Do Us Part

Game Over


Greetings, dear friends. It’s been awhile since I’ve written, what with all the heaving myself out from the depths of hell and whatnot. Moving, an inferno-circle all its own, is a great way to close your brain off to any creative thinking or insight-making it might normally be up to. But now that I’m settled, I feel compelled to address something that’s been nagging at me for several months. Really nagging, like one of those little plastic hang-tags that I only ever succeed in partially removing from my new underwear, so that upon wearing said underwear I am forced to spend the entire day slashing my delicate upper-crackal region with this intrusive plastic dagger that there is really no way to stop from torturing me until complete removal of all clothing layers is achieved. Which is hardly ever appropriate in public, especially when coupled with the fact that then I have to use my teeth on the used crack part of the underwear to get the goddamned tag off before replacing the layers. Nobody needs to see that. But I digress.

So here’s the plastic crack-dagger: Apparently, and this is not a joke, smartasses – people think that I am bitter. In general, sure, but specifically about Love. Several passing remarks of late have stuck with me – primarily they’ve come from women who really ARE bitter, who see in me some sort of kindred rage-spirit hell-bent on vengeance for all of Life’s and Love’s affronts. These have come in the form of a nasty jab at male-kind followed by an “amiright?” or a knowing wink, or a “girls-like-us-need-to-stick-together” show of solidarity that I do not feel. While I have made it plain and public that I do not wish to marry again, that sentiment should never be construed as Anti-Love. It is, in fact, decidedly Pro-Love. I fucking love Love. Hence my personal no-marriage clause. Marriage, in my experience, kills love dead. Almost immediately. The luckiest among the Marrieds come to a sort of cohabitational business arrangement focused on child-rearing and credit-building after the flush of new love is inevitably replaced by the flush of abandoned turds left by inconsiderate spouses. Two years is about the longest I’ve ever seen married people stay “in love.” By that time, the soul-seams are strained by resentment of things both spoken and unspoken. Socks on the floor, un-capped toothpaste tubes, wasted money, waning sex drive, in-laws, children….all of those things that EAT LOVE. And I like love, thank you very much – so I choose to pass on the rest of it.

Now, before the outrage starts pouring in accusing me of not knowing you or your marriage (which is obviously awful or you wouldn’t be nearly this offended), let’s be clear: I am not attacking YOUR MARRIAGE. I’m sure it’s lovely. I do not pretend to know your story. And of course there are a million wonderful exceptions to be found in the world. Beautiful aberrations. I hope yours is one of them. My authority comes only from my own experience and the ones I’ve witnessed that validate my opinion. The ones that don’t, I am choosing to ignore for the duration of this piece. In the immortal words of Miley Cyrus, “This is our house. This is our rules.”

So why the obsession with Forever? Why must a relationship always be Going Somewhere? You do know that that’s why they end the feel-good movies at the wedding bit, right? Would it still be a feel-good movie if they showed the part, 5 years later, where the husband won’t come home from work because he can’t take the nagging and the wife won’t put out because she can’t take the piles of his crap on the floor and the baby does nothing but alternate between scream-crying and shitting its pants?  I can say with some certainty that nobody wants to see that movie, let alone be in it. So why is THAT the be-all and end-all? Seriously, what the fuck is going on here? Why can’t two people just love each other madly for as long as it feels like love, and then stop? Part ways peacefully, with both lives enriched by the experience and spared the damage that comes from staying too long? Why can’t people just have beautiful, passionate love affairs that last as long as they last without others imposing Judgment, – or worse, Eternity – on them? Why, when the mere thought of touching our partners makes the hot sting of vomit start to bubble up in our throats, must we stay? Why is society so intent on killing Love?

Please don’t get me wrong. Marriage, I’m certain, has served us well over the course of history and is an elemental thread in the fabric of human experience. I get that. And I am literally bursting with joy that we live in a time when Marriage Equality for gay couples is something that society is not only talking about, but DOING something about. But to me, that’s not really about Marriage, as much as a basic recognition of ALL human rights that have been summarily withheld from those who are deemed “different” by the rule-makers. I rejoice in my friends’ newly granted Right to Marry because if that is how they want to honor their love, they should be allowed to do that as freely as any other dumbass human being. As more and more people come to accept both the concept and reality of Marriage Equality, is it really too much to ask that someone like me be granted Non-Marriage Equality without being accused of harboring the ugliest breed of animus?

I am not speaking out of turn here. I tried marriage. Twice, in fact. I just wasn’t good at it. The second time was the soul equivalent of a lube-free ass raping with a splintered two-by-four…I married a gold-digging psychopath whose clutches I would have escaped much sooner and with far more of my money, sanity, and stomach lining intact if not for that pesky Marriage Thing. The Protocol. The Next Step. The Contract. Where Everyone Must Go. I loathed the man with the fire of a thousand burning suns, and spent my every married day Jedi-Mind-Murdering him for fun (yeah, like I said, – I’m not good at it.). But not being good at marriage or refusing to watch that awful sequel doesn’t mean that I am done with Love. One has nothing to do with the other. The carnage that my marriage wrought stays obediently in its lock-box, and I am normally quite good at not assigning blame for it to anyone who didn’t actually do it – with one recent, dreadful exception wherein a very innocent and lovely bystander felt the business end of my icy-hot wrath for stumbling accidentally upon a trigger I didn’t even know I had. Now I know. And the profound regret I feel over that mutilated moment just serves to solidify my determination not to punish anyone else for the crimes of my former spouse. Because let’s face it – NO ONE could duplicate that shit.

So no, dear readers. I am not bitter. If you must know, I am ripe and juicy and aged to fleshy perfection. I am hopeful. I am open. I am soft. I’m a little broken, as most of us are. But the broken pieces sparkle far more than the flat pane of conformity that I failed to preserve. And if I’ve given up on marriage, please do not assume that I’ve given up on Love. I have not. Because that? I really am good at.

Really fucking good.


And they lived happily for as long as they were actually happy, with separate residences and complete freedom to choose the duration of their partnership. The End.




November 13, 2013 - Posted by | Uncategorized


  1. wow. i agree 200% with every fucking word of this.

    Comment by spacurious | November 13, 2013 | Reply

  2. I’m actually currently on the “My marriage is tanking” diet. Y’know, the one where you exist solely on caffeine & willpower. I’ll be a three-time loser with this one and am SO DONE with the prospect of marriage. Love is all well and good but the possessive “ownership” part, not so much. Bravo for standing up and saying what so many of us are mumbling in our own heads!!

    Comment by Gin | November 13, 2013 | Reply

  3. I actually never thought you were bitter, I knew you were processing. I think you are just lovely and agree with many of your points. I want to suggest that you read Gary Zukav’s Seat of the Soul. He talks about relationships growing/serving both people until they don’t and should end. It lit a light of truth recognition for me and changed how I have relationships.

    Comment by Sara Mayes | November 13, 2013 | Reply

    • Aww, thanks Bizzle. Sounds like this Gary fellow and I will get along just fine – I will definitely check it out. Love you!

      Comment by Marie | November 13, 2013 | Reply

  4. Fabulous as always my dear… Fabulous as always. Thank you for sharing.

    Comment by Brant | November 14, 2013 | Reply

  5. Well here goes the thoughts that I had yesterday . . . I ran into a school Mom at the grocery store. Why do people feel the need to say something rather than to rest in/on silence? Is it their nervous stupidity that makes them dig for something positive in a dark tank? Oh your father died? Well I bet you’re relieved that you won’t have to hunt for a Christmas present this year. Sorry that your foot was amputated, diabetes is a bitch – you won’t need to stress out matching socks anymore.

    you let me think it’s okay to fuck-up by mistake or intentionally and sorry doesn’t give it up, but it covers the ugly. thanks for posting and sharing your greatness

    Comment by silenzio2013 | November 18, 2013 | Reply

    • It’s not only OK to fuck up, my dear….it’s mandatory. It’s the only road to growth. Did I mention, I’m 17 feet tall?

      Comment by Marie | November 19, 2013 | Reply

  6. Marriage is nothing more than another failing american institution. The days of Ward and June Cleaver are over. Marie, after everything I’ve read about your certifiable nutjob of an ex-husband, I’m surprised you’re not a lesbian. 🙂

    Comment by Laurie | November 19, 2013 | Reply

    • It’s by no means out of the question. 😛

      Comment by Marie | November 19, 2013 | Reply

  7. Glad to see you writing again. I found your blog months ago – don’t remember how – and have been worried about you after your last post. I’ve actually read your archives and I appreciate your resolve about letting go.
    My second marriage was to a sociopath, with more lies than I’ll ever realize in my lifetime. Fortunately, I ended it after 13 months and never looked back. I’ve been with my current man for almost 15 years, but there were many times that I stood back and didn’t live with him, primarily, because of his then-teenaged son and 20+ daughter. The son was/is a nightmare (though he did not shit on the lawn) and, I was loving the vodka too much.
    Gratefully, both of his now-grown children do not live in our area, but their issues persist. The un-husband now has three granddaughters being raised by the most incompetent people I’ve ever known. They are still in his life, but I refuse to engage in their dramas, though I know it must take a toll on him. I support him but not them, though I send gifts the the grands.
    We have the life we always wanted together: a lovely home and some peace and quiet. No plans for marriage, though we have trusts and wills in place that will ensure my and his future, so that his children cannot descend on me and take everything.
    I was raised an entitled southern debutante (a moniker that is now so embarrassing, but true) that was taught marriage was mandatory. My mother was horrified I couldn’t put a ‘bandaid’ on my first marriage to the PhD psychologist. After working to put him through graduate school (my parents paid his tuition, but I worked full time), he cheated on me, after eight years, with his graduate assistant. Apparently, this is what all doctoral candidates did in the psychology department at his prestigious university. His dissertation professor was on his third assistant/wife; what a douchebag. The final insult was a letter he wrote to my parents outlining all my defects: smoking, drinking, weed – some of which he introduced me to at age 17. They were incensed.
    Fast forward past second husband and more than a few frogs, I met the man I’m living with. The one with all the children baggage. I love him dearly and choose to spend the last chapters of my life with someone, my best friend that I trust, and who makes me laugh. Marriage is not important to me now, though I might just have the ‘marriage’ I always wanted.
    Please write more often.
    (I was terrified to write you because of my punctuation. It’s usually pretty good, so cut me some slack – I’m on my third, maybe fourth, glass of pinot noir.)

    Comment by joanneinjax | November 20, 2013 | Reply

    • Oh, Joanne – you silly goose! Never be afraid to write to me! I really only judge people’s grammar if they’re trying to sleep with me. Thank you for worrying, and for sharing your story with me. I can definitely relate in many ways, especially the psycho-children-who-are-not-yours way. Hang in there, lovely! xo

      Comment by Marie | November 22, 2013 | Reply

  8. My parents are still happily married after 42 years and that’s great for them. I’ve been stuck in a “soul raping” marriage for far too long and will completely agree with you. I will never do it again, but definitely will never stop believing in love. Thanks for putting it into words in a way that I couldn’t.

    Comment by Beth | November 21, 2013 | Reply

    • Run for your life, my dear! Chin up, heart open….but seriously, run for your life and save your soul 🙂 xo

      Comment by Marie | November 22, 2013 | Reply

  9. I just happened over to your blog via The Bloggess’ site and this is the first post I’ve read. You said so perfectly what I’ve been trying to explain to my close friends and loved ones for years. I have also been married twice and also suck at it. The moment the “I Do”‘s are said is the moment it begins to crumble. You realize that when shit hits the fan, you are stuck….either you stay and deal with trying to get the other person to grow up and be reasonable or you leave, costing ungodly amounts of money. I’ve watched so many people stay in a marriage for fear of the cost to end it, or they just think they can’t end it.

    For me, I’d prefer someone stay in my life because they want to be there and because I want them there. If they decide at some point that we have each grown in such a way that is no longer compatible, then they are more than welcome to leave. Why is there this need for people to always fix something that’s broken. Sometimes when something breaks, it’s because it has served its purpose and can no longer add any value to your life. But the idea of someone staying and trying to work through an issue simply because it’s cheaper and easier makes me sick. I don’t want to be/feel stuck just as much as I don’t want my partner to feel that way.

    Comment by brandinav | December 12, 2013 | Reply

    • So glad you found you way here, dearie! Thanks for taking the time to agree with me in writing 🙂

      Comment by Marie | December 12, 2013 | Reply

  10. A woman named Jessica got super-glued to a public toilet. They tried to free her by applying nail polish remover to her rear end, but it didn’t work. So the paramedics had to bring her through the middle of a wedding reception with the toilet seat still stuck to her butt.
    In other words, sometimes life sucks.

    Comment by Tom Scarlett | December 14, 2013 | Reply

  11. plz come back, 2014 is deciding to make a turn. you can make the decision or just go straight; i’m along for the ride

    Comment by silenzio2013 | January 6, 2014 | Reply

You got a problem with that?

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