I wrote my last post in a narrative style because the story of that day, the day that my ex husband Chuck and I unexpectedly filed for divorce, was so bizarre and affecting. The imagery of kissing a man in the rain, a man you once would have done anything for, to say goodbye in essence has been a much-needed salve for my soul. When I think about that day, I’m so eternally grateful to have had it.
It was after lunch by the time we were finished at the courthouse. Chuck is a gregarious guy, and once the scene of the kiss passed, he quickly moved to the next space in time asking me if I wanted to have lunch.
Kissing your soon-to-be ex moments after filing for divorce and then going to the local pub for drinks and bar food might not be everyone’s story, but it is mine. We walked once again, sloshing about in the rain, our awkwardness with each other returning a bit. I don’t remember the name of the place we ended up at, but it was dark and inviting inside and exactly what we both needed.
We had a couple of hours before it would be time to get Emma, so we each ordered an adult beverage to smooth out the strain of the morning as well as some nice greasy fried and breaded food to soak it all up. And there in that cozy bar in downtown Baltimore, we talked like old friends.
The act of filing somehow released both of us to say some important things and to ask some nagging questions. It was so strange and yet so liberating all at once. We loosened up and laughed with each other, enjoying each other’s company for the first time in a very long time.
Before we knew it, it was time to pick up our girl from school, and a deep sadness was in the air as we got up and gathered the still dripping umbrella. Maybe we were both thinking the same thing: why hadn’t we talked like this before now, while there was still a chance?
It’s not that we didn’t try to talk things out. Of course we had major conversations before that day, many filled with tears, harsh words, and difficult, unanswered questions. But we had gotten so far away from the connection that allowed for healthy, open dialogue. Yet somehow that day, the connection made in a dusky dive temporarily fused us together again.
I like to think if Emma’s school pick up hadn’t taken us out of that time that we would have sat there for a lot longer, talking, reminiscing, and enjoying the company of each other. The result would not have been different; our marital relationship was already dead. Chuck had a fiancée by then, and the wedding date had been set.
Our kiss that day was not one of romance or desire. It was a kiss that said so much more, a suspension for a few seconds of everything that was wrong between us and the start of a new chapter in our story.
Kim Messer 