The fourth first step

Five years ago this month, I began the last journey I thought I'd ever find myself making. It began when I decided to end my marriage. What had been a comparatively quiet and drama-free life both during the marriage and prior to that was now a battleground of moral and spiritual crisis. My wife and I weren't really happy in the marriage, but our religious inclinations prevented us from seeking what common sense seemed to be telling us.

That is, we didn't seek it until I decided to rip off the bandage and get a divorce. 

Then all hell broke loose. My parents sided with my wife, most of our friends sided with her, and I was left alone in an apartment I couldn't afford by myself. Of course, we were also expecting our first child at the time of this separation, so that only added to public disdain for yours truly. 

Nevertheless, it had to be done. Those orders came directly from my gut and they were incontrovertible. Since the condition of our marriage was deteriorating rapidly, I felt that it was best for our daughter to have two happier parents in separate homes than a single unhappy home with both parents.

I barely survived this period for emotional and financial reasons. It ended when I moved from Louisville to Columbus, Indiana with my new girlfriend of three months. Two months after that, we found out that we were pregnant too. My first daughter was only eights months old at the time. The 'turnaround' between welcoming one kid into the world and then learning about another in just a matter of a few already-eventful months was surreal. Nothing like the old predictable days of my marriage.

However, things eventually settled down again once Daughter No. 2 made her entrance in the scene. I settled down with her mother, we had Daughter No. 1 every other weekend, and life was good again until...

Four years later (yes, five years to the month of my marriage's demise), I find myself dining on ashes as a bachelor once again. 

To be 36 years old and in this position is humbling. A lot of my classmates from over the years probably have middle schoolers, mortgages and student loans nearly paid off, they're nearly execs at their jobs, and they live in huge homes in the 'burbs. Me? I'm just now able to afford my own apartment working as a FedEx driver. 

What's keeping me from spiraling into abysmal darkness of the soul is the fact I know what I need to do: survive. This is a kind of survival I've always avoided because I've found the right people in life to help me coast: my parents, my first wife, my ex-fiancée. Essentially, I suffer from arrested development. 

This 'survival' can be defined as self-sufficiency, sure, but it's more than that. It's also about being content not to be in a relationship and to enjoy being alone most nights. It means my girls come before my dates or most other selfish pursuits. It means getting a second job if I need it or if it will make the finances easier. It means picking up around the apartment on a regular basis and cleaning it so guests can stop by regularly and visit.

Looking at the big picture, I should be absolutely crushed and broken right now. Two failed long-term relationships is a lot when I started out in life thinking the first one would also be my last. However, with so much promise for the future, I don't know that I've ever felt more alive. I still consider myself to be a lucky sumbitch considering all that has happened. 

It's taught me to have more compassion for the pain people feel and conceal as well in this life. Compared to how little pain I knew this time five years ago, I am able to empathize with more souls in this painful world than I could back then. Sometimes, I wonder if that isn't the cosmic point behind all of this?