Chapter 68
Sunday
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
VOICEMAIL #4: “Hey baby. I’m…embarrassed. I’ve never, um, I don’t know, I’m…I’ve never left a voicemail like this. I’m just…shaky. Jittery. My hands are literally trembling. Like I’ve had 12 cups of coffee. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat anything. I’m a wreck. Please call me back.”
VOICEMAIL #5: “Waldo, please talk to me. I’m dying to hear from you. Please don’t keep doing this to me. I’m…I know I sound desperate. I am desperate. I need to talk to you. Please. We can work this out.”
Mr. Korgy, 4:41pm: I was already sure of it but these past few days have proven it to me even more. That I need to end things with Gwen to be with you. Because my God I can’t live without you. I need you.
Mr. Korgy, 4:57pm: [Link to YouTube video of “I Need You” by LeAnn Rimes]
Mr. Korgy, 4:59pm: (That was supposed to make you laugh, but also I mean it…)
Mr. Korgy, 7:12pm: Okay but seriously baby, I get that you don’t want to talk, and that’s okay. Let me just say some things that I need to say to you. Things that you deserve to know.
Mr. Korgy, 10:08pm: I got married out of a sense of obligation.
It never should have happened in the first place.
That’s not a good reason to get married.
To do anything. Obligation. For the longest time, I told myself I’d propose to Gwen after my career got going, after life made more sense, whatever excuse I could use to drag my feet just a little bit longer.
But then I saw how much it was hurting her, the waiting.
She kept asking to get married, begging, saying how much she needed it, to feel safer and better and happier, and I figured, we’ve been together for so long, she supported me for several years, she let me pursue my lofty creative ambitions.
I owe it to her to give her this one thing.
I ignored that snag of doubt in my gut, the snag that knew we really weren’t a perfect match, that I couldn’t communicate with her the way I dreamed of communicating with a significant other, that there was some discrepancy between her and me, that she took in life a different way than I did.
I ignored all of that and I threw my life savings into an engagement ring, and her parents threw us a wedding with a fancy cake and overpriced floral arrangements and wedding food that tasted like airplane food.
And we said our vows and smeared cake in each other’s faces and that night, my head hit the pillow and I felt proud, for being a good guy.
I thought, “I did the right thing. For her. She’ll be happier now.
” But then she wasn’t. She was no happier.
In fact, she seemed more miserable, maybe because she was slowly realizing the thing that she thought would make her happier, the thing she’d been pinning all her happiness on, actually made no difference after all.
And so her misery became my misery. And yet neither of us said anything.
Just kept taking smiley pictures for her to post on Instagram with happy captions about her “darling hubby.” Meanwhile, behind closed doors, our dinner conversations got quieter and quieter.
Then one night after work she said she wanted to talk with me, and I thought, “This is it. This is the divorce talk.” And a part of me, as ashamed as I am to admit it, felt a tiny spark of hope.
But instead she told me she wanted a baby.
Needed one. She was convinced and adamant, and her eyes lit up in a way they hadn’t in months.
I never wanted kids, she knew that, but I started to feel like I had to give her one.
Out of obligation. So I did. And this time it did work.
She actually got happier. But I didn’t. I adore the little guy, more than anything, but he didn’t save our marriage.
Just distracted us from it. And that was enough for Gwen.
So I tried to convince myself that it was enough for me, too.
“Who’s that happy, anyway?” I’d ask myself.
“Is anyone? Maybe life isn’t about happiness, maybe it’s about responsibility.
Something you endure, for the sake of your family.
” So that’s the philosophy I threw myself into, like if I could just fill all my time performing my dad duties and my husband duties, I’d have no time left to even consider myself let alone my discontent, let alone do anything about that discontent.
So I changed diapers, and did daycare drop-offs, and washed binkies, and hung out with Gwen’s vanilla friends, and took her shopping at Lululemon so she could pick out workout leggings for her Saturday morning yoga class that I’d drop her off at and pick her up from while Gregory sat in his carseat throwing Cheerios at me and crying that there was no new episode of Wonderoos on his iPad.
And I sat there enduring all of it with a smile slapped on my face, why?
Because I felt obligated. Then you entered the picture and I woke up.
For the first time in years, I woke up. Because I wanted something.
I didn’t feel obligated to something. I wanted something.
You. I just. Wanted. You. And I still do.
And I’m realizing, I’ve lived so much of my life out of this place of obligation.
And I almost died inside from it. And I can’t do it anymore.
The only person I’m obligated to is myself.
I owe it to myself to live my life for myself.
I’ll be a better ex-husband than a husband, no longer quietly teeming with indignation.
And yes, it will be complicated, but ultimately I will be a better father to Gregory, more present, more lighthearted.
I can be better for them if I do this for me.
I won’t be going through the motions and gritting my teeth.
I need to do this. For me. I owe it to myself to be with you. I’m leaving Gwen tomorrow.
Waldo, 11:05pm: lol you’re not gonna leave your family for me
Mr. Korgy, 11:06pm: Watch me.
Thursday
Mr. Korgy, 7:38am: Just woke up. Feeling strong. I’m gonna do it tonight, Waldo. I’m gonna end my marriage, but I need to know you’re still in this with me. Are we doing this?
Mr. Korgy, 10:22am: If you’re in, I’ll book us a room at the Captain Cook hotel for tonight. You can meet me there at 9:30 pm. I’ll put your name on the reservation too so you can check in if you get there first
Waldo, 10:28am: (…)
Waldo, 10:33am: (stops typing)
Mr. Korgy, 10:41am: Baby, I see you typing. Are you here?
Mr. Korgy, 10:45am: Where’d you go?
Mr. Korgy, 10:58am: Are you here?
Waldo, 10:59am: see u at the captain cook, 9:30 pm. 9:31 pm, I’m gone.