A couple of weeks ago was my best friend's fourth wedding anniversary. She got her final divorce papers in the mail that very day.
Sometimes fate is a cruel cruel bitch.
Their divorce took longer than normal. Things got a little messy around property division (not uncommon) and he putzed around a lot--he didn't really want to be divorced. And the whole time she kept pushing harder and harder. She just wanted it over with. And when it was . . .well.
She was heartbroken.
I wasn't surprised.
She doesn't miss him. I think she was over him before she even filed for the divorce. But when you get married you aren't just marrying the person. You are signing up for a certain way of life. You are supposed to be partners, to share your lives, to grow old together, to support one another. You imagine the house and the family and she was mourning that part. Is mourning that part.
When you put on the big poofy white dress you never really imagine that you will spend your fourth anniversary opening up notices from the state family court. I mean I am the most cynical bitch around and I have never thought that.
I know that she will be fine. In truth she is already more fine than she was at this time last year. She isn't dreading the inevitable divorce now. She isn't putting off starting over. She's already done the hard part.
It is just hard to remember that when your best friend calls you in the middle of the night, making you promise that she can come live with your kids (that you don't have) instead of going into a home.
Sorry unborn children, make sure you have enough spare rooms for the three of us.