Flannel shirts should be outlawed for ex husbands; I realize this now. Flannel shirts are to women what crotchless panties are to men.

Take me now, God!” I shout to the inky sky. “I´m ready.””You´re not ready. You´re not even divorced yet,” Bunny says. “You cannot die married to that man.

I think: I would like to take N back to a story right now, like a rake. I would say, “Oh, this rake is uneven. Do you have any where the tines go straight across?”...

A heart can stop beating for a while, one can still live.

I’ve felt basically lucky ever since, almost every day of my life. That’s something else love should make you feel. It should make you fell fortunate.It will be made clear to you in a stray...

When you moved, I felt squeezed with a wild infatuation and protectiveness. We are one. Nothing, not even death, can change that.

I have a new mantra, which I chant softly to myself: “Oh My God Oh My God.

This is much easier than when N left. Our son is unable to grasp and simultaneously turn doorknobs yet. If only this trick could be unlearned by men over thirty, many more families would celebrate...

My mother is a firm believer in the long pause, useful in interrogations, proclamations of truth, and the occasional cutting dead of someone without their knowing it.

I should have known then it wasn´t nothing, as he called it. But I was eight months pregnant. No sense closing the barn door now, or so I thought. I swallowed the nothing, straightaway after...

People told me not to get married; I didn´t listen. No one ever listens, it seems to me now. Perhaps people should stop trying to communicate. N was not a communicator; early on, I´d insisted...

I know one thing about men,” Bunny says with finality, leaving the room to check on A. “They never die when you want them to.

Soon he was online every night until one or two a.m. Often he would wake up at three of four a.m. and go back online. He would shut down the computer screen when I walked...

After you are here, I will try not to become one of those parents who brag incessantly about their children, who force them to recite the alphabet backward or sing the Lord’s Prayer in German...

He announces that lately he keeps losing things. “Like your wife and child,” I want to say, but don´t. At fourty, I´ve learned not to say everything clever, not to score every point.

The abandonment came, and now this shabby bacchanal.

Delusion detests focus and romance provides the veil.

I feel angry but not homocidal; this may be unlooked-for progress.

For me, it´s sloth,” I say. “Hedonistic sloth and escapism.

He left a bit too easily and with obvious relief. His feet were swift and sure on the muddy path.

How could you do that to me?” I repeat. I don´t have to itemize. He knows what I speak of.Eventually N produces three answers, in this order:1. “Because I am a complete rotter.” I silently...

I said that additionally, since I was planning to nurse, it be best if you were off the breast before I came back to work. My boss just looked at me dreamily and said, ‘That...

They feel life is for the taking, and that everyone deserves happiness no matter what the cost. I must remember these tricks if I ever decide to have my soul surgically removed.

The Betty Lady explains love and splitting up: “It´s like playing the shell game with Jesus. You can´t figure anything out; it´s best not to try. You´ll just humiliate yourself.

Any way I slice reality it comes out poorly, and I feel an urge to not exist, something I have never felt before; and now here it comes with conviction, almost panic. I mentally bless...

The whole world seems tilted, my inner ear displaced by a hole where my spouse used to be.

It had all seemed as inevitable as sunset. Instead it was the beauty of the sun glinting upon the scythe.

Already things are changing; it´s starting with small shit but oh it´s starting, the change, the irrevocable, impossible change.

I am replete with stamina in finding out every single fact I can about this whole affair.Yet, I think, do I want to pull that thread? Do I want to unleash the truth, unravel deceit,...

The marriage is over; counseling is the eulogy. The relationship autopsy is the wake.