What Happened to Eden

You don’t know a person until you divorce them. Part of the paperwork for your lawyer is a Skeletons in the Closet form, where you write down anything incriminating or humiliating your spouse has done that our side could potentially use against them in court. Then, you make your own list of things he might use against you. Mutually assured destruction in a PDF.

No one is perfect. I’d had bad parenting moments where I blew up at the kids or threatened to throw away their toys. I’m not proud, it was ugly, but we were supposed to be a team. He should have tapped in when he saw me losing my mind, but instead he took notes.

His mistakes were less about the kids and more about his drinking habits. We didn’t keep alcohol around because if we had it, he drank it. If I opened a bottle of red wine for dinner, I’d get one glass and it’d be gone. If he brought home some microbrews, there’d be six cans in the recycling bin by morning. He was a big guy, it wasn’t like he was hammered, but who drinks six beers on a Tuesday when their kids are around?

He knew I’d dated an alcoholic before I dated him. He knew his father drank too much and got mean. And still, he drank far more than I felt comfortable with without some sort of festive occasion and a babysitter. I had to be the adult, as usual, because what if a kid fell down and broke their arm and oh, surprise, Dad has had four rum and cokes and can’t take you to the hospital. Somebody had to be the responsible parent and it was usually me. So I stopped buying alcohol. If a recipe called for wine, I’d save the rest instead of pouring it for dinner. I didn’t ban drinking, but I wouldn’t provide the alcohol. He did still bring it home sometimes and try to hide the amount he consumed but sneaking the cans to the bin, but I knew.

There were a couple instances that were egregious, and it seemed to happen when I left town. As in, he got so drunk he lost his keys, he got so drunk he broke a window, he got so drunk he puked everywhere and then passed out, etc. It wasn’t a lot of examples, maybe four in almost two decades, but it was enough that I worried he’d hurt himself or do something to jeopardize our marriage while wasted.

I felt like our marriage was fragile, and I told him so. It was maybe two months before I found the photos on my son’s phone. He was leaving for a work trip and I told him I felt like something was off. He had been so cold to me, so constantly annoyed by my presence, and was never interested in going on a date or spending quality time together to try and rekindle whatever golden age I’d thought we’d had, and he’d refused to go to therapy. I felt the time he was spending away was contributing to the fragility of our relationship and worried something small would break us – maybe he’d go to happy hour with his colleagues and drink and the do something regrettable. He brushed me off. Gave me a pitying look. And then went on his trip to meet his girlfriend and laugh behind my back. I was right, but too late.

The more people I spoke to on the dating app, the more I realized everyone is a cheater. People either admitted to cheating up front, had been cheated on, or defended people who cheat (closet cheater). Fine. People are weak, have no respect for their partner, or whatever reasons they repeat to themselves after the fact. People fuck up. What I couldn’t get over was being treated like a hysterical moron when I was right. I was right all along. He was being cold. There was something wrong. He was acting strange. It was a red flag when he cleaned the house and did laundry and suddenly volunteered for work trips. I was not stupid and just insecure.

Obviously, I had major trust issues. I waded into the dating pool (or cannonballed, really – who signs up for Hinge within 48 hours of discovering their spouse cheated?) assuming every person I encountered would cheat because everyone is just out there cheating all the time. Or maybe I’d be the cheater this time, who knew? It seemed stupid to be unfaithful to a person you’re just dating – you can leave any time you want. No shared property or children, no reason to muddle through and stick it out, just go.

I felt as though a casual relationship where I was dating multiple people would make me feel most comfortable, because cheating doesn’t exist in that scenario – I am allowed to be with multiple people and so are the men I date. I know up front they are spending time with others. So even though the weekend with The Cop had gone pretty well, I continued to take calls (and raunchy photos) from The Voice and match with other potential candidates regularly. If we are all cheating, it cancels out.

The end of the school year was a blur. Every time I’d make headway with packing, some bullshit project would pop up and I’d have to unpack crafting supplies or tie dye shirts or silly socks. We were long past the point where the house was livable and the kids’ lives weren’t impacted. We picked a date to move and planned to leave town by car the next day. I suggested my husband take the kids the night before, both because the house was packed and because he should get to say goodbye.

School ended. The movers came. And we made our escape.