Well, that was less than amusing

In order to marry the love of my life, I have to annul my first marriage. Previous marriage? I get so upset when I think about it, as if having been divorced once, I'm doomed to do so over and over again ad nauseum. Yes, there's been quite a bit of nausea throughout this process. And why? Why is there this stigma against divorce? Half of all Americans do it. Hell, it's practically our patriotic duty.

So, reining in my wine-fueled sarcasm, part of this process involved a FIFTEEN page document that outlined our "courtship" (isn't that fucking quaint?), our marriage, and our domestic demise. Because obviously, the United States government's word that our marriage is over isn't enough for the Roman Catholic Church. NOPE. Gotta pretend it never happened.  It's like MAGIC. I wish I had their magic wand. So, in minute detail, I got to tell strangers in black and white, in a permanent document, that I naively was adamant that I would never be divorced; that our marriage was doomed before it started, but I was so young and naive that I felt I had "made a promise" so I went through with it (complete with being drunk when I said my vows!); that nearly my entire family thought I was making a mistake; that I was verbally abused for nearly the entire marriage; that I wasn't fucking good enough to make it work; oh, and that I cheated on my husband. Not a lot of people know that. Not a lot of people know that he essentially raped me (let me be clear: I cried in pain and lay there while he used my body when he was angry at me. He denied this in our counseling sessions). I got to explain that the sweet man who married us, after weeks of counseling, worried for my safety and sadly said our marriage would never work. I got to explain that he blackmailed me into taking on all of our credit card debt in order to get him to sign the papers. I got to explain how I lived on a sofa for five months, while giving him my half of the rent, because he was spending our stock money (I didn't know we had any!) on video games and a new car and  a new TV and helping out a friend. When I did get my own place, he came over, and I was too scared about what he would do before the cops got there that I didn't call them, but let him in, and he spent the night trying to get in bed with me. So, all this, I got to relive.

I also "got" to get my marriage license and divorce decree. Neither I ever wanted to see again. Did you know I got divorced on my 28th birthday? It should've been the best present ever, but instead it felt like the worst failure of my life.

And then, my future husband calls me today. He says that my ex-husband wants me to call him to prove that the inquiries he's making for the annulment are legitimate. The last time I spoke to that man was over seven years ago, and I called the phone company crying hysterically to change my phone number. They didn't even charge me the change over fee they were supposed to. So, I did. I called him tonight. He laughed. I could hear a child in the background. He wanted to talk. To chat. Finally, my monosyllabic answers and dead tone clued him in. "Do you want me to let you go?" Yes. Dear God in Heaven, yes. Please. Let me go.

P.S. No, it's not fun to buy a $40 present for someone I don't know. Why on earth that seems like it would be fun to anyone is completely beyond me.