P is for Pool

When Ex and I were first married, I was in heaven. I thought I had been given the greatest gift in the world – another person’s love.

We spent our first night as husband and wife in a very fancy hotel in town. Ex reserved the honeymoon suite, which came with a bottle of champagne, a basket of snacks, and, best of all, a late checkout time! Instead of the normal checkout time of 11:00, we did not have to be out until 4:00. We took full advantage of the situation by sleeping in and then going down to the pool and hot tub to relax even more.

                     

I used to be very scared of water. I had recently learned how to swim, but I still preferred to stay in the shallow end and just play around. Ex was not satisfied with that. He took me by the waist and dragged me out to where the water was over my head. He stood there, grasping me firmly by the hips and yelling at me to paddle.

Trust me, I was paddling. Because Ex was holding my hips up, my entire torso and head were being dunked under water and I panicked – it felt as if he was trying to drown me. I finally managed to twist around and grabbed him desperately around the neck. I wasn’t mad, just scared.

Ex, however, was irate. He barely spoke to me for the next three days. Welcome to marriage.

O is for Onions

One night, Ex made himself a hamburger and put red onion on it. He left the chopped red onion out on the counter all night. The next morning,  I woke up with cold-like symptoms - stuffy nose, watery eyes, slight fever. I didn’t think much of it, just thought I had caught a summer cold.
             

The next time Ex had red onion, I figured it out. I had developed an allergy to red onions. Before he found out that I was allergic to red onions, Ex usually preferred white onions. Then he found out red onions made me sick, so he started buying red onions all the time.

                  

He would hide them from me, like I wouldn't find out. I would know red onions were in the house because I would develop a random cold. I could even smell them coming out of Ex’s pores.

I asked him once why he bought red onions when he knew I was allergic. I don’t remember what he said in response, but I will never forget the triumphant gleam in his eye. He had found yet another way to make me miserable and that made his day.

N is for Naked

I have a very high libido. Ex had a very low libido.

I was a virgin when we got married. Ex had slept with three women.

 I love sex. Ex didn’t.

See a problem here?

                                            

 I used to think that Ex’s willingness to wait for sex meant that he loved me. I used to believe Ex when he would whisper promises of passionate nights for “years and years”. I could not wait for our wedding night when we would finally consummate our love.

We had sex four times that first night. And then nothing for four days.

                           

I was crushed. I felt utterly rejected. Ex said he was tired. Later, he told me he had been mad at me and didn’t like me, so why would he want to have sex with me?

At the beginning of the marriage, I would try to initiate sex. I had been a loyal Cosmo reader and knew that the majority of guys wanted their partners to initiate sex, and I wanted to be a great partner, so I did.

        

I would lie in bed naked, waiting for him to come in, tell me goodnight, and then notice I was naked.

 Sometimes that worked. If Ex was in a decent mood, he loved it. If not, which was most of the time, it irritated him and he wouldn’t talk to me for days. And I do mean days. Ex was really hard to read at first, so I could never tell what his reaction would be.

 It didn’t take long before I stopped trying. I learned my lessons well. No more Naked Me waiting in bed for my loving, horny husband. I didn’t have one.

M is for Mom

On our second date, Ex and I went to see a movie and then to Steak N’ Shake for a late snack. It was snowing and we sat in the warm restaurant and talked for a very long time. It was not normal second date conversation; we talked about kids, our plans for the future, our relationships with our families, and other serious topics.

Ex told me that his mother was a real bitch. He said she was mean and hateful and that she was not only a horrible mother but a horrible person as well. I was shocked. Huge red flag. I think Ex saw the look on my face because he changed the topic immediately.

                                    

The next date, Ex’s tune had changed dramatically. Now he loved his mother and told me stories about how he had been a difficult child and that she was a saint to put up with him.

He went to visit her shortly thereafter and came back raving about how great she was. I stupidly decided the huge red flag was just the result of a bad day for Ex and chose to believe the new Ex instead.

                            

Every time we saw Ex’s mom, he would treat her with the utmost respect – opening doors for her, pulling out her chair, giving her hugs, and carrying on lovely conversations with her. He channeled his anger towards her directly at me. Ex never treated me more badly then when his mom was in town or when he had just seen her.

One time when he had just returned from visiting her, he started yelling at me and called me “mom”. He swore that it never happened but it did. Several times, in fact. Just an example of him getting mad at me for something that had nothing to do with me. Oh, how I wish I had paid more attention to that red flag.

                         

I should have put this under "F is for Flag".

L is for Litter

Although he professed to care about the environment, Ex did practically nothing to help it. He left lights on, kept the air conditioning blasting, left doors open so the air escaped, left the water running while he brushed his teeth, drove a V8 truck, and drank bottled water. Ex claimed to care but did nothing to show it.

                               

One thing he was big on was not littering. He told me once that if I started littering, he would divorce me. I could tell that he meant it, too. It really hurt my feelings but I didn’t say anything. He actually apologized later and I told him I appreciated that. Didn’t really matter, though, because the damage had been done. Littering was a big enough offense to break his vows.

                     

I should have thrown a candy wrapper out the window on our way to the hotel on our wedding day. Hindsight is twenty-twenty.

K is for Kiss

            The last time Ex kissed me, I was shocked. We were walking into church and he just stopped and kissed me. Ex was never affectionate like that, and it made me so happy. Briefly. The moment was ruined when he asked me if his breath was bad. I guess maybe I should just be glad that his breath wasn't bad, because that was the very last time my husband kissed me - to find out if he had bad breath. Now that's love.