Editor’s note: The following article was submitted by the Lovefraud reader who posts as “Adelade.”
I’ve experienced so much personal loss as a result of my second marriage that I don’t know if I’ll ever recover. I lost my belongings, all of my inheritance, and I nearly lost my will to live. When I returned home and the hot water wasn’t coming out of the spigot, I took my little flashlight down to the basement – dirt and gravel floor, unheated, and housing a dead furnace. I opened the door to the basement and was met with a wall of warm, moist air and the sound of running water. It was 27 degrees, outside, and 37 degrees inside the shell of the dwelling where I’m currently living.
In the back of this dank-assed basement, the running water was issuing from the top of the water heater onto the gravel and dirt floor in a torrent. Oh, the water was plenty hot, but it was never going to run out of the spigot or showerhead, again. I ran to the breaker box and threw the breaker for the hot water heater and shut down the cold water intake for the unit and the torrent became a trickle, and then stopped, entirely. I just stared at the water heater with contempt – HOW could it have died like that when it knew that I had no money to have it repaired or replaced. Hell, the carcass of the furnace sat there and stared at me with an absolute lack of emotion or response.
I stalked out of the basement, out into the frigid air, and back up to the frozen mess of the house mumbling every profanity that I could remember.
Well, the point is that I’m in a very miserable situation. But, even in the midst of all of this constant misery is some hilarity. The fact that I’m living in conditions that are pre-Hurricane and post-Exspath that are equivalent to 1901 luxuries, it’s just about the funniest situation imaginable.
I’m rediscovering my sense of humor and wit, and I’m so grateful for this miracle. I never, ever thought that I’d find anything to be mirthful about for the rest of my life, and I’m finding something humorous in this whole test of my resourcefulness and stamina, every day.
One of the things that the exspath did was to glom onto my own sense of humor and wit like a tick sucking blood out of a host. His own humor was passable, but he wasn’t nearly as witty and he often was visibly annoyed when someone would say (in his company) that I should be a standup comedienne. This went all over him and he hated not being the wittiest or the most humorous.
Well, today I am absolutely on a roll. I’m finding that keen wit and humor to be the most valuable qualities that the exspath wasn’t able to coerce from me or forge out of me.
It is imperative for each survivor to find one thing that spath couldn’t take from them. Whether it’s their wit, their love of cooking, their ability to sing, or their organizational skills, the spath didn’t take EVERYTHING from us. And, today is the day to acknowledge that the spath didn’t take it all from us. That ability and quality is the starting point for me to rebuild myself. And, rebuild, I will.