Fork In The Road

As I was walking up the hill toward my house Sunday, a donkey rounded the bend and was coming down the road toward me. A man with a rope followed, trying to keep up with the donkey who seemed to be in a hurry. The donkey and his or her man went another 50 or so feet and then headed off-road, up the hillside to a particular spot where the donkey calmed and started to graze on the tall green grass. The man clearly knew where the donkey was headed and promptly tied the donkey to a post not far from there.

The next day, as I headed out, there were two donkeys in that spot having brunch and no man or people of any sort. For whatever reason, the donkeys graze on an area around the bend from the two horses that appeared on a grassy area near my house at the end of last week and spend their days also grazing on the tall grasses. I know little about donkeys or horses, so I don't know if they are kept separate so each pair has more grazing area of their own, or if donkey-horse relations are tenuous. In the end, it doesn't matter much to me except that it all appears peaceful and the man – I believe my across the street neighbor who farms and runs a water delivery truck – seems to have his situation managed well.

Patmos is a relatively small island with a modest population and many families that go back hundreds of years if not more. Donkey management is nothing new to them. And they live in what seems to be a state of complex interdependency and awareness of one another – including with their animals. Even those who may not be close know who each other are – and likely what that person's father or aunt or grandparents did, what that family's role or contribution is in the community. In 2019 when Emily and I flirted with buying a very affordable house here, Nichlolas told us not to do business with the sellers – that they were an unsavory bunch. And he should know, they're his wife's cousins. While we were talking to him one time, the cousins/house owners came around the corner and of course Nicholas immediately looked happy to see them and gave them hugs and the obligatory kiss on each cheek. You can feel and think whatever you want privately, but the requirements of community force a Patmian to behave in ways that support harmony.

The obligations of family and interdependence are precisely what weigh on me so much right now. One of the many things discussed in couples therapy was that in the therapist's view, Emily is having a mid-life crisis. She gave Emily a recommended book or two on mid-life crises and suggested that Emily find a way to go through it, allowing me to support her. 

A large number of people have recommended that I figure out what I want and question if it really matches what Emily wants or what I get from my marriage. This makes a lot of good, practical sense – especially in the face of Emily more or less rejecting not just our marriage, but marriage in general. I'm doing this and it more or less has a predictable conclusion.

But what about that mid-life crisis? How do I weigh it in the equation? A marriage is supposed to include being there for someone going through something including an illness or a psychological condition. Is riding out and holding steady through a spouse's crisis part of the commitment? Are they trapped in something you're supposed to love them through? Is the integrous thing also something that demands strength and persistence in the face of extreme hardship? Or is a 43 year-old adult woman responsible for whatever she says and does – mid-life crisis or not? If I hold on tight and love her through it, does coming out on the other side even exist? What are the boundaries and obligations of marriage? What is giving up too soon and what is torturing yourself unnecessarily? How does one conclude that they have truly done all they can and be released? Am I being the adult who lives up to his commitments and ideals – or someone blind to when to let go and accept that life doesn't always work the way you expect?

And what about my kids? They deserve everything. They have thus far grown up in a warm and loving home with their parents accessible and attentive. They live in a nice house in a great area going to a great school. They have felt stability and grown from a foundation of trust and love. Emily and I have done a pretty good job of keeping our issues out of their eyes and they were genuinely surprised when we talked to them about the separation – which was very validating that we had done something right. I firmly believe the best thing for them is to have everything they have known – an intact family in a warm home. If it can be had. 

So many people have rightfully pointed out that kids are not better off with miserable parents who stay together. But does getting divorced necessarily end the misery? Sometimes people are just miserable and pin it on their marriage. Sometimes divorce isn't the solution they thought it would be. Does the midlife crisis end when the marriage does? Is relief the same as finding a path to happiness? Is a divorce going to actually create two happy parents?

I think I could find the path to happiness after marriage. But I'm quite sure it won't look like the life Emily imagines for me. I don't want to live down the street and pass the kids between parents on weekly intervals.  I'm not sure that's great for them – and more importantly, I don't want to spend half my time living a life I don't want while waiting for the half the time that matters to me. Half of my year – half of my life for the next 12 or so years – can't be a waiting period. I'm pretty sure I don't want to be a single dad in the suburbs and I can't imagine wanting to find someone new and starting some version of the same life over again. No, life would have to be proactive again – building, living, growing, engaging the world, being my higher self. At the moment, I'm flirting with the concept of being in the house with my kids for three month blocks twice a year and living wherever I want for the other half of the year. Making my life interesting and engaging again. If I can work from wherever, why be tied down to a place I don't want to be as a single person? Why not be fully dad for three months at a time when I'm with the kids and fully me when I'm not? I don't know yet – but it's a plausible path for me.

Does Emily know what her path to happiness looks like? I'm actually not sure she does. She hasn't articulated it yet despite conversation around it. I think she's so focused on what she doesn't want that being with her kids and perhaps dating instead of a committed relationship sounds like a path for her. But I don't know if that's her path to happiness or a default position once she gets rid of what ostensibly weighs on her.

Perhaps it doesn't matter because it's beyond my control.

But is the path to happiness selfish? Is it breaking the obligation to my children? Many readers have assured me it's not – that my happiness and Emily's happiness will be better for our children. Two happy parents apart are better than two unhappy ones together. The kids will be fine no matter what. It makes sense and it also feels like a real gamble. If our kids didn't know we were struggling, how unhappy would they be? What would we be taking away from them by not being adults and figuring out our shit? Or maybe that's the question right there – is figuring things out the adult thing, or is it knowing when to let go? Both seem right depending on the angle you look at it and whether or not you squint.

So right here is the meat of the struggle. When I look back years from now, this will be the fork in the road that will have made so much difference. Was it the right choice? I'm so bogged down by this question.