It’s not enough to know that I made a lifetime long mistake of being married too young. It’s not enough to have the inherent stresses of being enlisted in the Army. It’s not enough to know that I had to deal with all my personal problems staring me down as I worked every day at Fort Polk, Louisiana. But to me, it is enough to absolutely drive a person insane, delirious to be forced to deal with this twisted situation. I am deployed with my ex-wife, and when I say ex-wife I mean every bit of the connotations and actualities that come with this no man’s land. The rumors, the lies, the deceit; they are all embedded into a situation called divorce. What’s the kicker? It hits me while I’m a soldier 24/7/365.
I made the decision to get married truly believing in the lifetime contract that it stood to bring. And guess what? It didn’t. Here I am at FOB Rustamiyah, Iraq already watching idly as a brother has passed earlier than us having even fully assumed our Area of Operation. I must every day see the person who has torn my heart from its resting place, thrown it on the ground, and spat on it without so much as a “Change step, March!” on her part. I have no closure, no space, no time for these atrocities to mend, heal, or subside.
No one above has seen this as a problem past “Well, that sucks…” or “Wasn’t there something about her moving out of Fox Co.?”
Yeah, it’s caused something I call exmatrimonorexia. I refuse to eat more than one meal a day if it requires a journey into the dining facility. Traveling to said place greatly increases the chance I have to see my ex-wife during the day yet again. It’s a drain on me. It’s a complete morale buster, and it is something that irks the very core of my being.
It hasn’t been a full week if there isn’t some kind of new rumor running around in the porta-johns about “Vaccariello” or any number of soldiers in the battalion letting me know “how _______ [ad lib] my ex-wife is..”
What’s the answer?
Deal with it.