The Answer Is No

Several well-meaning people have asked whether it might be possible to Work Things Out with Dear Husband.

I haven't told many people about the rapid demise of my marriage, partly because I don't want to answer any questions, and partly because it's just so damned embarrassing.

Of those I have told, some have gotten the full story and some have received the sanitized version. Amazingly, everyone in favor of Working it Out has heard the uncensored story of DH's betrayal.

Aside from my mother, who has endured two extremely unsatisfying marriages over a span of 30 years and has shown that she'll put up with just about anything, I am baffled by these people. Why would I deliberately put myself back into this situation without being marched into it on the business end of a gun?

Rather than explain it to them individually, I'll list the reasons why reconciliation with DH is impossible.

1. DH has shown that he is often incapable of telling the truth. Although I'm not above telling a little fib to spare someone's feelings, I'm essentially an honest person and expect the same from others. I cannot be legally bound to someone who can look into my eyes and lie like a rug.

2. I don't have the energy to spend my life keeping an eye on DH like he's some kind of deranged toddler. I have a postcard on my fridge that says, "I wanted to have a child - *sob* - not marry one." It sucks a tremendous amount of energy to always wonder what someone else is doing. Trust makes this kind of paranoia unneccessary. But:

3. I don't trust DH, and he doesn't trust me. The reasons why I don't trust DH are obvious, but I'm not sure why he doesn't trust me. I don't think I would have been overjoyed about DH's Secret Life had he told me, but I would have been pretty understanding of the reasons he thought he needed one. He never gave me the chance.

4. It's a big, big world out there. Thanks to the Internet, opportunities for those with Secret Lives have expanded ad infinitum. For fuck's sake, who needs the internet? I live four blocks from Santa Monica Boulevard. DH would have to be locked in a crate (hmmm) to avoid temptation.

This list should dash the hopes of the Well-Meaning People, but I doubt that it will. I would like to think their optimism is rooted in the spirit of forgiveness and redemption, but they're probably worried that at my age, I'll never lasso another man. They don't need to worry - I don't want one.

Interestingly, after a few feeble objections, DH hasn't even made an effort to get back in my good graces. The last time I told DH to hit the road (when he was still Charming Boyfriend), he bombarded me with letters and flowers and good intentions. Maybe he realizes the futility of trying. Maybe a charitable transvestite hooker has taken him in. It doesn't matter. Because the answer is no.