The Country Club

My husband and I often meet at our Club to discuss personal matters. I'm sure that is not the norm there because I often hear people listening in, but I'm at the point where I just don't give a shit.

There is nothing right in our relationship.

Nothing.

We argued and argued. There is childcare upstairs, and our kids love to go there, so we could argue to our hearts content.

At one point he asked me, how much have you been drinking? I started laughing. That is so ironic. The one who has been in rehab since he was 15, trying to point his finger at me like I had the problem. It's always been that way with him. When there is a problem, it is me. Me, who has been here from day one, fixing his fuck-ups.

I had had a few glasses of wine. And I told him, I am here. I have been here, waiting for you to fix what you have broken. And I hope that you prove me wrong. But until you actually DO what you say you have been saying you will do, there is NOTHING left to talk about.

Things rambled on to the point where I started talking about my dad.

I told him, I never asked you for much. I never asked for anything fancy. When I was growing up my dad worked hard. Very hard. And we didn't have everything, but we had everything we needed.

I broke off saying, You are not a man...you are not a man...you are not a man.

He got up and walked away.

What a "man".

I finished my wine and then rushed off after him. He had the keys and I was scared he would take the kids.

On the way home we listened to Michael Jackson. My kids have become big fans. After he died, I put on some old videos and they were instant hits. Now we have MJ playing nonstop in the car.

Billie Jean came on and I told him, this is the perfect song for you. He became even more angry. I reminded him of how he asked me if our son was his. He tried to deny it and I told him, that's why it hurts. The truth always hurts.

I told him, I should have run. I should have done my own thing. He became more and more angry. He told me to stop talking in front of the kids and I told him it was a mute point. Our daughter was asleep and we have a Suburban - so our son was in the far back-seat and the music was blaring and he couldn't hear anything. (And, it is funny how he uses that excuse when it is convenient for him, and doesn't hold true to it when he wants to call me names.)

We got to the other women and he started accusing me of other men. I told him, that is the difference between you and me. You say you have regrets, but I have none. Inside I realized that was not true. I wish I had not married him. I wish so many things. But at this point it doesn't matter.

Regrets mean nothing.

I remember my great-grandmother telling me when I became pregnant with my son that if you don't have regrets you have not lived.


I will never regret my son.

But I regret a lot of other things around my husband.

But I have learned. Painfully. I have learned. And the biggest lesson is that promises mean nothing. It is action. Action is the only thing that counts. And that has been my biggest mistake in life. I have listened to too many pretty words.

And look at my dad: he never talks. I don't recall a promise he has ever made me. But he is the biggest do-er of a man I have ever met.