Exit Strategy - Explained

My first submission to Literotica didn't go well. As it was the first story I'd ever written, I didn't realize how many people would misunderstand. I've thought about it decide to try to rewrite the story so that more people would understand it. The story was about a teenager who had his life turn to shit and adopted a fatalistic approach to life. It wasn't that he lost his ability to emphasize, it was about controlling the hurt. Some of what he said was meant to be sarcastic and some of it was meant to be lies, but I guess I didn't make my intentions clear. I'm also adding the other half of the phone conversation that I omitted. Maybe it was only clear in my mind about what Bev's responses were. Sorry about that. (By the way, my thanks to the people who did understand and liked what I wrote. I'll try not to spoil it for you while I attempt to reach the people that didn't understand what I thought I explained clearly. Instead of replacing it with an edited version, I'm just going to rewrite it with additional explanation and post it with the original. That way people who liked the original can still read it and compare it with the new one.)

*****

Do you know what the opposite approach to an emotion like love is? Most people think that the opposite approach is hate, but it isn't. It's indifference. When you lose someone you love, you can stand it better if you wall it away and try not to let it hurt you.

I'm not most people. I can control my feelings of loss when I'm disappointed in love, at least long enough to cope. I'd been coping with it for a while when my wife decided to bring matters to a head with, "Honey, we need to talk."

It's almost a cliché, it's so overused. What's worse, is that it's in no way truthful. Not absolutely truthful, not in total. 'We' don't really need to talk, but she wants to say something and I'm supposed to want to listen. Take my soon-to-be-ex-wife and our 'talk'. The first word in that sentence started it off in the wrong direction. I was no longer her 'honey', a fact that was apparent. Secondly, 'we' weren't talking, she was. Actually, she was reciting from a prepared script that she had rehearsed in preparation for the event. The 'need' part was also totally one-sided. I didn't need it. I would have vastly preferred that the situation wouldn't have developed, and if it had, I would have preferred her leaving a short note saying 'Am leaving. Will file papers soon.' and her wedding and engagement rings. If she wanted to be polite about it she could add the word, 'sorry', but I didn't feel it was necessary. I could cry about it in private, not in front of the one that hurt me.

That's just me, though. Most people enjoy reacting emotionally to things, but that's not my style. I could have reacted emotionally, been angry, hurt, bewildered, anguished, or just unhappy. They do it as catharsis, a way to get crippling emotions out where they can be dealt with. I've seen people get emotionally upset when they have a flat tire, and I think it's silly. If the tire's flat, no amount of emotion changes that fact. If the wife's leaving, once again, nothing emotional has any affect on that situation. Shut down, deal with the problem without distracting emotions and weep about it later. That's my style.

I suppose I should explain. I've felt bereavement and loss before, and I learned to handle it. At first, I wasn't very good at it. My mother died when I was six, complications with the pregnancy that might have resulted in a younger brother for me. It was like I had lost both my parents, because my father didn't handle it well. I cried for a few days and then kept it to the occasional sniffle for a while. My father worked longer hours and occupied his other hours with his other new hobby, drinking. Well, not exactly a hobby, it was more like self-medication in an attempt to cope with something he really wanted to avoid. I was ten when his two major pastimes coincided. One night he drove home after a 'few beers' after work. Boom, I had an entirely new family dynamic and another reason to have to deal with my emotions. This time I cried at night when no one could see me and pretended I was fine on the outside. It didn't do much for my grief, but at least I didn't have to deal with pitying looks. Don't people realize that those just make the sufferer feel worse?

As an orphan, I was taken in by the only family I had left, my grandparents. I was thirteen when my grandfather died, and sixteen when my grandmother died. Not accidental deaths, just the result of old age. I think that's how I learned to handle the loss of someone from my life. It didn't do any good to rage at my loss or lament the fact that I missed them. They didn't leave me or abandon me, they just died. Nothing intentional about it, shit just happens. I'd heard the saying, 'Life is an incurable disease' often enough. Everyone that is born will die, sooner or later. So, why let it twist your insides and make your life miserable? Mourn your dead, weep in private if you must, and get on with life.

I decided at sixteen to take as my approach to life that I had to accept that everything ended. Sometimes you were there at the end and sometimes you weren't, but there was nothing you could do about it. You just took the hand you were dealt and made the best of it that you could.

I polished the skills required to do that in foster-care. I only had to put up with it for a short while, unlike some of the other foster-kids. One guy I met had been 'in the system' almost his whole life. He had been approximately a week old when he was found at a bus-stop accompanied by a one-word note that just read, 'Sorry'. That's rough. My situation was better than his, any way in which you want to measure it. I was new to foster-care, only had two more years of high school to finish and I wasn't in bad shape financially.

My dad may have drunk to forget his pain but he was what they called a 'functioning' alcoholic. I had the money that my mother left me when she died. It was in a trust that I couldn't touch until I 'attained my majority', which I thought meant eighteen. I had the proceeds of my father's life insurance policy and the house where we had lived. The mortgage had one of those 'pay the balance on death' insurance policies, so I didn't have any debt. I wasn't really a 'welfare' case like most of the other kids, but I still needed to have a 'responsible adult' care for me.

That situation persisted for only six months. The attorney that was handling my father's estate decided that there was no reason for me to stay in foster-care. I had a part-time job, I would own my own home when probate cleared, and there was no reason I couldn't be 'emancipated'. That's when a judge looks at your situation and decides that you have the ability, and assets enough, to take care of yourself. I became a homeowner one week before my seventeenth birthday, and a legal adult two weeks after that. Since I had money, I did have to repay the amount that child-welfare had expended on my upkeep, but that wasn't all that much.

You can see, from my account of my childhood, why my outlook on life was a bit different what most people developed. 'Shit happens', you deal with it and move on with the rest of your life. Years later, I got a chance to put that outlook to some use to shape how I dealt with the woman I had chosen to spend my life with. She died (Well, she was dead to me from that point on, and that was close enough.) and I had to deal with it. It was complicated by the fact that only the part of it that was the woman I married died and there was another person inhabiting her body, but it could be handled. It was like that old movie, Invasion of the Body Snatchers. My wife was dead and what was left was a pod-person that looked and sounded like her. So, I started preparing for what I knew was to come.

One evening she started talking and I realized our 'confrontation' was about to happen. Luckily, it took her long enough to get around to it that I had managed to get over my feelings of loss. I figured she'd react badly to indifference, so I tried very hard to imagine that I was Charlie Brown listening to his parents speak. (You know. WAH WAH WAH without any real context. I ignored most of the bullshit, but the last part happened as follows:

"Cindy, can I interrupt you for a minute?" She looked a little shocked, but she stopped with her recitation.

"What?"

OK, not the most well-thought-out response, but it would do well enough.

"Can we just cut to the chase? You found someone else and you want to be with them, I get it. Can I help you pack or would you rather do it yourself?"

"What?"

Is there something about infidelity that destroys brain cells? I didn't say it, but I thought it.

"Packing. Moving. New life. New man. The first step is getting your things packed so you can get them to wherever you plan on living. Is your new boyfriend going to pick you up, or will you be taking a cab? Are you taking your stuff with you or just packing it up to collect it later? You know, the details."

"What?"

I think that she had rehearsed her exit speech with different expected responses on my part. Still, most people can deal with outcomes that are not as they expect them to be, better than this. She started to try again.

"He's..." She stopped with her mouth open, searching for the words.

"You don't have to tell me his name, 'He' will do well enough. It's not like we're going to be good buddies or anything. All we need to do is handle the mechanics of getting you out of your old life and into your new one. I had assumed that you wanted to take your old things with you. Are you resisting the idea of packing because you don't want to take any of your things with you? Maybe he's richer than I am and he's going to buy you all new things. Or is it you want to move in stages. Either way, you better take a few things to wear until you can get your shopping done or move the rest of your things. Just send them to a thrift-shop if you replace them, even a rich man can use the tax-break that comes with charitable contributions. By the way, how do you want to handle the paper-work? It won't be extensive, the cars are owned by my company and the pre-nup covers my corporate assets. The house was mine before we got married, so that's covered. The rest won't be hard to manage. You know my lawyer's name. I'll have him prepare everything and you can tell him where to send them. Even though you're the one that wants a divorce, it's easier if John does the paper-work, and I'll pay for it. You should probably get a lawyer of your own, though. Just so that your mind rests easily about everything. Maybe your new boyfriend will know someone."

"Divorce?"

Again with the one-word responses! For someone with a degree in Communications, she seemed to be having problems with the concept of verbalizing her thoughts. "Well, divorce is what you do when you find another guy to replace the one you had before. He might want to marry you, and it's against the law to remarry without getting divorced first. Still, if you don't want to get remarried, you don't need a divorce. I'd like to have one, though. I'm not planning on getting remarried, but you never know how things will develop. Plus, it makes all the rest of the nonsense like taxes and other legal matters simpler if we get a divorce. It's like shutting the door when you move out of an apartment. It's not strictly necessary but it's common politeness and makes things easier for others."

"But..."

"Look, I'm sorry if I'm messing up your chain of thought. I just thought we could simplify things. I've known other people that have had divorces. Sometimes it's the husband that has the speech, but usually it's the wife, all about 'I didn't mean to hurt you' and 'it just happened' and 'I hope we can still be friends' and all the other bullshit. Bottom line is you want to leave and I see no reason to stop you. If it's over, it's over. Nothing else needs to be said, in my opinion. I don't need 'closure', so I don't need to ask a lot of 'who', 'where', 'why', and 'how long' questions. I just offered to help you pack, to get an awkward situation done with and over. I'm not mad, I'm not hurt, I'm not upset, I could tell it was over when you started your speech and it's not necessary to go over irrelevant details, OK?"

She took a deep breath and relaxed. She started using normal speech patterns that were more like intelligent speech. She did have a degree in Communications, after all. "OK. All my girlfriends have been helping me to prepare for the confrontation with you and... Well, you don't do confrontations, do you? I don't mean that in a bad way, but it's like you really don't get upset about stuff."

"No, not really. Why get upset, what's that going to help? Love is only love if it's returned, and you've got someone else now. I won't say I won't miss you a bit, but I'll get over it. I was serious about helping you pack, you know. Might as well have you leaving while we're still on good terms." (Well, I was being a bit deceitful. I had been very upset when I first found out, but I was back in control. At least enough to function.)

"Thank you. For everything, I mean, not just the packing thing. My girlfriends were worried that you might make a scene, so we cheated. They came over earlier and helped me pack, and a lot of my stuff is outside in their car. One of them had a soon-to-be ex take a few punches at her when she left him so she insisted that I take her car remote with me. All I have to do is push the button to make her car horn sound and three of my girlfriends come in to 'save' me. They're sitting in the car now, waiting for me. Doesn't look like I'm going to need saving, am I?"

"Nope. I'm sorry I'm not living down to their expectations. I hope they won't be too disappointed. They probably spent quite a bit of time getting all worked up for a confrontation and I've cheated them out of the adrenaline rush that would come from a dramatic rescue."

"You don't even know them, and you've got them pegged. There are three of them, each armed with pepper spray and ready to 'confront the ogre'. I'm ashamed to admit it, but they were so convinced that this would be an angry argument that would get ugly, they almost had me convinced as well. I'm sorry I didn't remember you're not a neanderthal, you're civilized. I probably didn't have to cheat, you would have understood."

"I'm not that civilized and I wouldn't have understood. I would have said 'No' about you dating other guys. As far as I'm concerned, when you're with me, I'm the only one with you. Some of it is I don't like sharing, and some of it is I don't like the problems that come with second-hand sex. If you're fucking around, you're exposing me to whatever STD they might have encountered. You might trust them, but I don't. That's the only part of this that has me annoyed. Still, chances are I'm still clean. It's not like you've taken to hanging out at crack houses and and fucking for your daily fixes. All life is a risk, I just prefer to mitigate that risk." (OK, I being deceitful again, about the sharing and the STDs. Those were the small problems. The big problem was losing someone that I could trust, that I loved and that I could share anything with. That one hurt.)

"OK, I get it. For your own piece of mind, what made me think we needed this conversation is we decided to get serious and dispense with condoms. It wasn't fair to you to expose you to something without your consent, so I had to tell you. You can't have been exposed to anything yet."

"Not to be unkind, but I'll still get checked. Over the last six months, you've made quite a few statements that I know were untrue. Where you were going, who you were with, that kind of thing. Saying you always used condoms might be just another one. Not necessarily something malicious, if you were with only with one guy you might be sure you can trust him, but I'm not as sure as you are."

"I suppose I should be insulted that you aren't going to take my word for it but, like you said, I've done enough to deserve that. How long have you been expecting this?"

"Like I said, you started acting a little 'off' about six months ago. You were thinking about this new guy and wondering. Took you about a week or so before you decided to do anything about it. Then it took you another month to decide that you wanted to trade up. I've really only been expecting 'the talk' for the last five months."

"Am I really that transparent? Don't answer that, I obviously am just that. Or, maybe you're just a very perceptive guy. Did you ever think about doing something to stop me?"

"Not really. It was your choice to stop or not. I don't like to think of myself as a jailer or a warden. If you had stopped yourself, that would have been something, but there are two different stages. If you had stopped when it was still in the 'thinking' stage I would have ignored it. If you tried him out a couple of times and decided not to go any further, I wouldn't have said anything, but I would have kept my eye out for further 'experiments'. Like they say, once a cheater, always a cheater. You'd probably try out another guy, and another, until you found your 'trade-up'. I didn't see that there was anything I could have done would have made any difference. If you don't want what and who I am, you'd keep looking until you found my replacement. I don't think you're the type for repetitive 'flings' while you kept your permanent relationship on the side burner. I could be wrong, but I think you're the type to be looking for something permanent. You just weren't sure it was going to be me."

"Umm. I never thought I would be saying this, but what if I decide I made a mistake. You seem to be positive this is over, and I thought I was, but what if I decide that I wanted to stay with you? Would you take me back?"

"I don't know. I'm willing to make this a trial separation, though. You go your way and I go mine. If we're separated and we both decide we we want the marriage, we call off the separation. If either one of us, during the separation, decides to call the marriage off permanently, we tell Bob and it changes from a separation to a divorce. If neither of us decides to stop it, in six months it becomes permanent automatically. I'm not positive I'd still be willing to try again, but anything is possible. Then again, I might find someone else I'd like to be with, who knows? OK?" (Once again, I was being deceitful. There was no way that this wasn't going to end in divorce! I'd mourned the end of my marriage while I watched it die. I didn't confront her, I'm not cut out to be a warden or a jailer, it had to be her choosing me over him. Now I just wanted to get away from her so that she couldn't hurt me any more.)

"Umm, I'm not so sure I like the idea of you looking for someone else. I understand that wouldn't be fair to you to expect you not be with someone else, but my ego is kind of taking a little hit. The way this all played out in my head, you'd be devastated by losing the love of your life and not looking to replace me. Silly, I know, but that's the way I was thinking."

"I though you knew me better than that. I don't do 'devastated'. I'm not going to be actively looking but if something or, more accurately, someone I meet seems interesting... That's the way I met you, you know. If it worked once, I might as well see if it happens again. Maybe it will turn out to last longer the second time around. You never know."

"Don't remind me about the way we met. I chased you without you knowing it until I let you catch me. Don't parse that sentence, I know it doesn't make sense. It's just the way the female mind works. If you show up in the office on Monday without your wedding ring on, the chase is on. Some of them will wait long enough to make sure that the rings aren't just being cleaned or repaired, but not all of them. Hell, some of them have been hitting on you all along, you're just too honorable to take them up on the offer... Shit, I just realized something. By that standard, I'm the one that's been acting dishonorably. Sorry about that, all my rosy little romantic thoughts just got caught in a reality check. I have been acting dishonorably, I just haven't been honest to myself about it. I wish I hadn't been such a selfish little twat!"