Bir-Fath-a-Versary

As I alluded to in my previous post, all my personal holidays are grouped together. My birthday is on June 17, my anniversary is on June 18, and Father's Day is rarely less than a day or two away from the others. We jokingly call it my Bir-fath-a-versary. It's my most celebrated time of year, and my heart is full.

Full of anger, hurt, and despair this year.

I'm sure this breach of confidentiality will be added to my list of transgressions, but all these feelings have to go somewhere. And they been expressed verbally countless times to little or no avail.

In one instant we were all packed in the car for the trip to church this morning, and minutes later I was alone in my Jeep beginning the 850 mile journey to my parents house searching for escape from the strife-torn battlefield my home life has become.

I love to travel, and embarking on the trip to my parents house, (with harkening mountains and 20* cooler weather), usually fills me with excitement. But it just felt wrong to be leaving this time, so ultimately, I pulled over and turned around. I haven't gone home though. I'm sitting in Barnes & Noble watching the happy families heading to Father's Day lunches at the Cheesecake Factory next door. I find myself wondering if they're really as happy as they seem, or if they're just better at hiding the pain than I am?

I always have been one to wear my heart on my sleeve. Some would say that it's a good thing--what you see is what you get with me. I have difficulty hiding my feelings at all; something that made growing up especially treacherous. With all the teasing and emotional assaults that dot the junior high landscape, any sign of weakness was usually quickly and brutally exploited. My sign of weakness was that every bully's taunt, every cruel joke, every barbed comment made a mark, and I didn't know how not to show that it bothered me. So "they" kept at it, and kept it up. Incessantly.

All this frank emotion also means I'm especially demonstrative. I like to show people I love them on a grand scale. Like "kidnapping" someone on their birthday, blindfolding them, and driving 3 hours away to visit their best childhood friend. Like arranging for a surprise trip to San Francisco, and then proposing from horseback in the middle of a Napa Valley vineyard. Like planning and arranging for Spring Break trips to New York City. Like listening carefully and working hard to get inside people's heads to buy gifts that are personal and significant to them. Like purposely trying to build up other weaknesses. Like expressing gratitude on a regular basis.

This same heart on the sleeve also means that when something hurts or upsets me, my mouth runs just as quickly. I tend to say things that are certainly pertinent to the present circumstances, but may have lasting consequences that I haven't always thought through.

Unfortunately, my expressions of love and concern are often passed off as empty grandiose acts, only a product of my overt emotionalism. Yet when the same fiery furnace spurns or criticizes, it's taken to heart and internalized. Counted and tallied; neatly noted on the scoreboard.

Talk about your double edged sword. In fact, live, and then die by the sword was never more fitting.

And so, with no more detail than that: right now, this moment, in this place, I want out of my marriage. One has to realize the gravity of me saying that out loud. It's my second marriage, I have 3 kids by 2 different women. The likelihood of finding someone I could love in the future who would also actually accept that kind of baggage is slim to none at very best. It may as well be the death knell of a life without loneliness.

I recently heard an extremely convicting and Biblically solid sermon on marriage. In the course of the message, the pastor explained that in his years as a marriage counselor he hears the same things over and over again.

He said the top two needs of a woman are, (a.) to be loved, and (b.) to be provided for. In regards to (b.), I've failed miserably. With the chiropractic school debacle I've been unable to provide for my family for years. Beyond what that's done to my own psyche, it means I've greatly failed my wife and family. I thought I was doing a pretty good job of (a.) but I've been told that I'm failing miserably there too. I have to take that at face value since that's what she tells me.

The pastor continued on and said the top two needs of a man are, (a.) respect, and (b.) affirmation of love through physical intimacy. Unfortunately it's become painfully clear that (a.) is not being met and has not been met for some time now. Again, thank you chiro school. And (b.) has been only minimally attended to.

The 4 top needs in our marriage are pictures of utter and complete failure. Who would want to stay?!

I don't know where to even begin, but I guess I'll start by getting in the Jeep and driving home.

Happy Father's Day everyone.