Two and a half hours. One hundred and fifty minutes. Pretty long for a phone call. Damn long for an international phone call. Friggen damn long for an international phone call from your ex-wife.
That is the total length of conversation that I had with my ex last night.
In the surreal world of separation, divorce and new relationships, I guess a two and a half hour conversation is not that odd. But this was a conversation between people who have experienced deep hurt in various ways and who often are very angry at each other. I don’t want to analyse it too much, because as it is I think of it as a pleasant experience.
In fact, today I was floating. The morning started rather early as I had classes first thing, and the Shiyan winter weather is surprising me every day. The futuristic looking date-time-clock-thermometer-barometer that sits at the school gate was indicating a chili start of 10 degrees centigrade this morning. I thought it was lying then already.
But, I felt very, very chirpy. It could be euphoric delusion resulting from a lack of sleep, as I went to bed at 3 am last night, following two cups of illegally strong Italian Coffee earlier the day. Nevertheless, I felt good, my students were eager to learn (or perhaps, more delusion), my classes were exceptionally well timed, the kids were cute, the teachers were beautiful, even lunch consisted of gourmet food.
So the theory is that it was because of this conversation with my ex-wife. It wasn’t all smooth mind you, and there were no sweet talk of trying again, or even I’m so great, you’re so great, why didn’t it work. It was in fact a gut-wrenching trip down memory lane and it started with a bit of a cat-fight, but calmed and panned out nicely. We did also address some issues which are, to be polite, sensitive, but yet the conversation survived.
On any other day the end of the conversation would have been abrupt, an event of either party disconnecting the call following a list of expletives banned by various Governments and prohibited in the telecom’s service agreement. But not this time.
Like actual adults, we took turns to listen to the other’s case, and stated our own. Did we come to an agreement? No. But at the this stage of the relationship you know you don’t agree, now it’s just about understanding why. And boy, are there a lot of why’s.
So in analysing it (after I said I didn’t want to), I think the reason for my happiness is that we managed a conversation in which some understanding were gained on each other’s perspectives. And if for nothing else, it will help build the relationship that is necessitated by the willful co-operation we have towards raising our son in as normal circumstances as possible.
Today I think I was floating on hope. Before, I felt there was no hope for a normal relationship with my Ex. But I guess we both need time. When I left initially it shocked her, when she served me with the divorced it shocked me, and the two events were several months apart.
Divorce is messy, even when it isn’t. I wish I could do it over; I would avoid divorce, perhaps marriage, at all costs.