The worst thing about divorce

It’s my boys I worry about.

I’ve never been divorced before.  Neither has my wife.  But we’ve both been though painful breakups before and come out okay.  We’ll both be okay this time, too.

My boys grow up in an intact home.  Now that’s not going to happen for them.

I worry how their parents’ divorce will affect their ability to have good marriages of their own.

I worry about not being around to protect them.  They’re not big enough to defend themselves against an adult.

I worry that if I’m not with them every day if will hurt our relationship.  Will we be as close as we are now?  Will we drift apart?

I worry about so many things.

Worrying won’t solve anything.  All I can do at this point is the best I can.

I just wish it was better.

First big crush

When I was in the first grade I had the biggest crush on a little girl in my class. I think she had a crush on me, too.

The next summer we both took swimming lessons from the same lady. Then I didn’t see her at swimming lessons any more.

She was supposed to be in my class again the next year. Her best friend was in the class, too. On the first day of school the teacher called roll. When she got to my crush’s name, her friend announced that she had moved to California. My little heart broke.

Later that year my crush came back. Just to visit. I was too nervous to talk to her.

I became convinced that my crush would move back, and I decided to wait for her. I was sure I would marry her.

Just before Christmas when I was in the fifth grade she visited again. The next May another girl gave me a note from my crush. The note said that she was in love with me. It said to meet her behind the school after school. I thought the girl had waited five months to give me the note, and I was so mad at her. I hung on to that note for a long time. I wish I still had it.

My crush came to visit again in seventh grade. I never talked to her on any of her visits, I was too scared. I had put her up on a giant pedestal.

In ninth grade a girl in my Spanish class asked me if I wanted to go out with her. I don’t remember what happened after that. But I do know that after seven long years I stopped waiting for my crush.

When I was in eleventh grade a girl in my math class announced (to the whole class in general) that my old crush had moved back. I had been right after all. But I was afraid of girls in general, and I had lost interest in my old crush.

Later I realized that she probably visited other times I wasn’t aware of, and that maybe that girl who gave me the note hadn’t waited five months. Maybe my crush waited behind the school for me that May day, and I never showed up.

I’m sorry.