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I was divorced today from my fourth wife today. It won’t be final for a couple of weeks until a judge signs the final papers. It’s going to take a while for the effect of this to sink in. It is so much easier to get married than divorced. Although it was uncontested, the stress of watching endless home movies of worst case scenarios is more than I can describe to anyone who has not been through this ordeal. However, like so many things whose potential we fear, the worst doesn’t always happen. But the time spent fearing is somehow in direct proportion to the time needed to recover from it when the issue has been decided. How long will it take for me to really believe it’s over?

After all the paperwork, a second hearing was postponed a month so that the court could make another effort to contact my ex-wife-to-be in an attempt to have her present at the hearing today. She came and we greeted each other warmly and affectionately and then had a half hour to catch up with things before the actual hearing. Of my four wives two had left me; I had left two. She had left me. Twice, actually.

She is 23 and homeless, currently living in a women’s shelter. She is beautiful and affected a very positive attitude today. She was homeless when we first got together and what happened thereafter is a very long and convoluted story which I will attempt to tell at a later time. I spent six years of my life being in love with her for some of the best of reasons and for some not so altruistic. I had not seen or talked to her in nearly two years.

She had told me that she wanted nothing from a divorce settlement. That was fortunate because, living on Social Security, I truly had nothing to give her. At the heart of the matter is that she is the biggest liar I have ever met. I do not say that with any rancor, nor do I harbor any anger toward her. That is just the way she is; that is a fact. That she is damaged goods- bipolar, PSTS and a couple of other wounds- is one of the reasons my heart went out to her. I thought I could help heal her.

Not having seen her in so long, when she appeared today, I went into a form of interior shock as if I were having a heart attack in my stomach. When came our turn before the Magistrate I didn’t know what she would say and I was scared to death. She came through true to her word. She asked for nothing.

I have spent a lot of time over this in fear. Now that it is nominally over I feel gratitude. And I still feel love for her. I also feel a sense of obligation, which is truly not rational. I wish her the best.

She said she was going to bring me a pumpkin pie for Halloween. And conversation; we may have some catching up to do. We’re not enemies.

The Poetry of
Jack Scott

Automythology

E’ricca