A Meandering Tale

A meandering tale, but a tale worth telling nonetheless. A man and a woman separated after thirteen years of marriage. It came like a bolt from the blue – one day they were married, and the next day they weren’t. Neither one of them had expected to seperate. It just happened. Neither one of them could have controlled it.

They had a prenuptial agreement when they married, so they divided their assets up simply, put the house up for sale, and split the profits of the house. They could not have told you why they signed for a prenup. It seemed like there was no rhyme or reason to any of it. They just signed the prenup because it was an option that was provided and they didn’t think twice about it. 

They didn’t have any children, so that was a small mercy. They each moved into their new respective apartments, divided up their friends equally, and continued with their jobs and with whatever lives they had outside of their jobs. They didn’t have to do much explaining or consoling with their parents and siblings, because their parents and siblings had frankly never cared about their marriage one way or the other. 

What bothers me the most about recounting this tale is that to this day, neither one of them seems to have much feeling one way or the other about how they met or how they separated. To them it seemed as straightforward and normal as the weather changing from sun to clouds to rain. It just was what it was. And on the outside at least, it looked like they were happy and very much in love. And maybe they were, maybe they were in love one day like it was sunny, and fell out of love the next day like it was rainy. Who’s to say? What bothers me the most is how little they seemed to care one way or the other. 

Like thirteen years was just nothing. Like thirteen years of marriage was as simple and random as a tree stump that had been cut at the waist, and their life after marriage was as simple and random as a washed up crab shell on the beach. 

All of it just is what it is. As much as feelings burn in most of us, they never have the final say in the matters of cold and relentless life.