The Big D, and I Don't Mean Dallas

My marriage came to an end Thursday morning. It took a judge less than 10 minutes to undo 10 years. Eleven if you count the courtship.

I tried to keep myself busy. If I went straight home from court, I would have been overcome with emotion and unable to do anything. And I've had PLENTY of days like that as of late. So I tried to fill my day with little things -- breakfast with my pastor, a little grocery shopping, mowing/yardwork.

The rest of the day was supposed to involve taking a shower, making dinner, talking to my son, and then leaving time for contemplation. But I got on social media after the "Twitterpocalypse" -- the denial-of-service attack that shut down Twitter and crippled Facebook -- and everything changed from there.

I sent direct messages to update a few friends who knew what was happening Thursday. I also tweeted about my divorce for all the Twittersphere to see. That's when a Twitter friend tweeted, "*hugging you*." And that's when my stiff lower lip quivered.

Thank you for your sentiments, but damn it, woman, you're messing up my schedule! I'll cry later. Any hugs or encouraging words when I'm sad -- virtual or reality -- open the floodgates immediately. Just ask the well-meaning men and women in church who have had to hold me at the end of a Sunday service while I sobbed uncontrollably.

I wanted to go through my day like one of those people who've had a death in the family but get through the memorial service, funeral and covered-dish meal after the funeral (a Southern tradition!) before they "let it hit them."

But then I didn't feel like a shower. Didn't feel like making dinner. So instead, I threw on a clean shirt, took out the trash for Friday pickup, and went for a takeout dinner.

Then I talked to my son, who's handled this whole separation/divorce thing better than either of his parents. But there was something else: My now-former mother-in-law answered the phone because she was watching him. Where was his mother, my now-former wife? Working late, as she sometimes does? Or out celebrating the first day of the rest of her life?

I must admit, it bothered me a little to think it might be the latter. Could you not sit at home and at least try to feel as bad as I do about this thing, even though you got what you wanted? Could you not have waited until at least the day after the ink dried on your divorce before celebrating your restored freedom?

If I kept playing it over and over in my head, it would have bothered me to an overwhelming and crippling extent. But then, just as fast as it started, it faded. I have no control over what she's going to do. She doesn't care what I think or feel. She's not my problem any more.

And, with that, my need to contemplate and cry faded, too. I have contemplated. I have cried. I have prayed. I have begged. I have pleaded. I have tried to become the man she deserved in the first place. None of it has averted the tragic outcome that is part of God's plan.

Maybe it will yet hit me harder, and I'll need time to reminisce, cry and pray. Maybe it won't. Maybe I've used up all those emotions since she left last June, and am ready to move forward.

Not that I'm taking any chances. A friend wrote on Facebook about "Something's Gotta Give" being on TV last night. No, no. No rom-com for me for now -- especially not one that my ex and I saw in a theater together, and loved. No movie that opens the floodgates for sentimental reasons, because it feels like a page out of my life, or because it's just so compelling -- including, but not limited to, "Terms of Endearment," "When a Man Loves a Woman," "Muriel's Wedding," "Jerry Maguire," "Chasing Amy," "My Best Friend's Wedding," and the "our film" for me and my ex: "Notting Hill."

"Fight Club" was on, too. That's more my speed right now -- entertainment with an edge, even if that edge is softened for TV. "Fight Club." "Pulp Fiction." "Trainspotting" -- no, that's not on TV, but I wish it was.

I don't know why this marriage had to end. I don't know if I'm done thinking and crying about it. I don't know why I'm going through unemployment and foreclosure at the same time.

All I know is that Friday is another day to move forward.