Survey Says!
January, 1999
Don’t get me wrong, my search for true happiness has been great. The yoga, the walks, even the new cooking classes I signed up for…all of it has been fantastically liberating. But the problem is, I do all that stuff in the day-time. My nights continue to be hell. From the moment I moved into my cottage, the Kurt guilt and Leo loss weighed heavy on me, and I ended up spending most evenings crying on the couch with a bottle of whatever, while old episodes of The Family Feud aired on The Game Show network.
Why tune into the Game Show Network, you ask? Easy, those old game shows offer me a respite from the hellish nightmare my life has turned into. They take me back to when I was a little girl, back to when I believed in fairy tale weddings and happily ever afters. Occasionally, I tried to take a break from Richard Dawson and flipped through the channels, but once I saw how close my real life shenanigans resembled the ones of ditzy sluts like Ally McBeal and Amanda Woodward, I only became more disparaged. Sometimes I gave shows like Dateline and 20/20 a chance, but the reality of how royally f*cked up our world is scared me even more than my current state of affairs. And so usually, just minutes after abandoning Richard, I found myself back to him and the comfy coziness of the 1970’s. I suppose I could’ve forced myself to go out with friends, do all the things I dreamed of doing once I had my own place. And I guess I could’ve enrolled in a night class or started knitting to take my mind off of Kurt and Leo, but I didn’t. My evenings became the time when I decided to pay the price for all my bad choices.
And night after night, without fail, I paid that price. As Richard Dawson welcomed his horny little contestants, I’d sit in the middle of all the love letters I ever wrote to Kurt and sob over my tainted fairytale. To calm myself down, I’d blast the Braveheart soundtrack and soak in the tub. Obviously, that move only resulted in more self-degradation and tears. I was a f*cking mess! Night after night, I found myself in a perpetual ping pong game of anger and heartache, and the only way it ended was when my Tylenol PM kicked in. But the next day, the heartache, accompanied by a massive headache, ensued. You know…I’m sure the makers of Tylenol PM are accurate in their claim that you wake up feeling rested and refreshed after taking the recommended dosage. But, when the recommended dosage is doubled and accompanied by a bottle and a half of wine…not so much.
Then miraculously (via phone hacking), Leo reappeared. And I thought once he was back in my life, my cottage would cease to be a personal torture chamber and The Game Show Network would be a thing of the past, but unfortunately, it wasn’t.
Surprisingly, Leo took the news of my marriage a million times better than I thought he would. In fact, he was glad I waited as long as I did to tell him. He said, any earlier and he wouldn’t have been in love with me enough to tolerate it. Never in a million years would I have thought delaying telling him I was married would be a good thing. After I explained the specially selected details of my past to him, we shared a bottle of wine, as he tried his best to make me feel better about all of my stupid mistakes and choices. We made love in my bed and, for the first time since moving into my cottage, I slept soundly in it. Morning came; we made plans to see each other that night and kissed good-bye. Then…once I closed the door…I was back in my torture chamber! My newest doozy of a lie immediately started chasing me around my cottage and it hasn’t stopped. How in the hell am I gonna finalize a divorce in two months…in a state where it takes at least a year…to a husband who hasn’t been formally notified of one? Exactly. I’m not. And because I’m scared of Leo finding out the truth, I’m pushing him away…again. I cancelled on him that night and it’s been weeks since I’ve seen him. And so, even though we’re technically back together, night after night I sit alone with my bottle of wine, my Tylenol PM, and my Family Feud. I don’t know what to say…to anybody. Time to call Dr. Maria.
Sad Frumpy Lady’s wearing the usual outfit and her usual scowl. Even so, I’m happy to see her. Oh, finally…
“Hi, Hunny, come on back.”
I rattle on to Dr. Maria about my two huge triumphs, moving out and telling Leo I’m married, and she’s obviously proud of the steps I’ve made.
“I don’t understand something, though.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, I finally got my own place. I told Kurt I’m seeing someone, and I told Leo I’m married. But I don’t feel how I thought I’d feel.”
“How do you feel?”
“I’m really sad.”
“What makes you sad?”
“Oh, let me see…that I hurt Kurt and I have to hide from Leo how horribly bad that makes me feel because he’ll go ballistic. That I lied to Leo about being closer to divorce than I really am. That I haven’t even told Kurt I want a divorce! That I live in a tiny little cottage and spend my nights alone in it to hide from all of the things I should be doing to fix everything I just told you. Tell me, how is this my life!?”
“You made it this way.”
All right already, Maria! I’m all about accountability, but FOR ONCE give me some real f*cking answers!
“Right, and on therapy paper, it looks like I made some really good changes for myself, but in all honesty, it doesn’t feel any different than it did before I let all the cats out of the bag. I still feel like I’m in prison.”
“That’s probably because you’re still letting Kurt control your feelings.”
“How long will I be stuck in limbo?”
“Until you file for divorce. If that’s what you still want, anyway.”
“For God sakes, I just told him like a week ago that I want to see other people. I can’t drop a divorce bomb on him; that would be like fast tracking the whole thing.”
“It would only be like fast tracking it for him.”
She’s right. It’s always been for him, for him, for him. How long until I stop putting his feelings before my own?”
“Are you considering staying married to Kurt?”
What was it that Courtney said? Oh yeah…it’ll take six months for every year we were together before I stop considering it…him…us. Good grief, that’ll be like the year…2005! There will probably be f*cking hover-craft cars by then.
“You know, for so many years I loved Kurt with all my heart. And I used to think he loved me with only half of his; that’s where so much of my sadness and resentment came from. But after all my therapy and alone time, I realize he gave me as much of his heart as he possibly could, and in a lot of ways, it makes me love him more now than I ever did.”
“So you are considering it.”
“I know now that I’m the most important thing in the world to him. And you know what, if I had started therapy and learned to be authentic with Kurt before I met Leo, I think I would’ve been able to see the bright side of things with him, and I’d really consider staying married to him. But it didn’t happen like that, and that’s what makes all of this so tragic.”
“Explain the tragedy to me.”
“It took meeting the love of my life to figure out…I’ve been Kurt’s all along.”
“So, you’ve always had the thing you thought was missing with
Kurt.”
“Yeah…I’ve always had his whole heart.”
“I can see the tragedy there. Tell me, is it enough?”
“Is what enough?”
“Kurt’s heart, is it enough?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because half or whole, it’s still the same ol’ heart, and it won’t be enough to make me fall out of love with Leo. And that’s why, to answer your question, I’m not considering staying married to Kurt.”
I leave without asking Dr. Maria where to go from here, and then I race to the city to meet Slutty Co-worker for the last yoga class of the night. I settle into child’s pose and wish I could stay there forever.