And if I had the choice,
I’ll take the voice I got,
‘Cause it was hard to find.
You know, I’ve come too far
to wind up right back where I started….
–Concrete Blonde, True
It’s been a while since I posted here on my public, albeit pseudonymous, blog. I’ve been busy. I’ve been retrenching. I’ve been rebuilding.
When I started this blog, with an entry entitled The Beginning of the End is Still a Beginning… Right?, I was struggling to come to terms with the increasingly inevitable end of my marriage. By getting my thoughts out onto these pages, and engaging in such constructive dialog with you, my faithful readers, I was able to navigate the treacherous waters of divorce without upending the entire enterprise. The kids are doing well, and Penny and I have been maintaining a healthy co-parenting arrangement. I’ve begun the long, slow process of getting my financial house back in order, and I’ve done what I can to strengthen my already healthy relationship with my boys.
Somewhere along the way, I seem to have lost my voice. I’m not referring to my speaking voice (although, oddly, that has happened, too; my singing/speaking voice still hasn’t fully recovered from a bout of laryngitis a few months ago), but rather, the part of me that is Inris. The keeper of this blog; the teller of this tale. If the chapter of my life entitled Marriage and Divorce has drawn to a guardedly successful resolution, what’s to be the tone of the chapter to follow? Having addressed the concept of Not This, I’ve been still at a loss to pick up the thread of Then What?
I’ve been maintaining a kind of holding pattern, during which the fog that has enveloped my mind for the last few years of my marriage has begun to clear. It’s not quite yet obvious to me what’s next, but some options are falling away, and I’m starting to feel recovered enough to head off soon on some new adventure.
Certainly, a large part of the next chapter of my life involves being the best father I can be to my boys. I suspect that part of what comes next will also involve having to address the damage that was willfully (though, impersonally) done to me by certain financial institutions. While I have a fine job at the moment that is helping me to pay the bills, there will also have to be some deliberate decision-making regarding my near-term and long-term career goals. So, yes, all of this will help to shape the story of this new chapter in my life.
But there also needs to be romance. Let’s face it: one of the primary reasons my marriage failed was the lack of romance. So, now that the marriage is over, there’s room to let some love back into this story. But how is that going to work out for a mid-40s, single father of three who divides most of his time between work, kids, and recuperation?
Would it surprise you to learn, dear friends, that there can, indeed, be romance after divorce, even for this jaded heart?
Because, the next chapter does, in fact, begin with yours truly starting a conversation with a beautiful young woman who is smart and sexy, and who speaks my language.
She’s got kids of her own, so we have that in common. She’s coming out of a marriage that has had some serious problems, but she is trying her best to make sure her new path is as healthy as possible, with ever an eye toward considering what’s best for her boys.
Her three boys.
She loves me for my body as well as my mind. It’s so weird just to even type that out loud. That after such a very long dry spell, some welcome rain is making its way into this parched life. Mrowr.
She surrounds herself with good, honest people; she strives for integrity in all that she does. She keeps me intellectually honest. She demands respect, and she gives it, as well. We share overlapping senses of humor, taste in music, and pop culture references.
For all of that, there really is only one complication.
You see, I live in Seattle.
She lives in Arizona.