The Geisha Story

So the first marriage had disentegrated.

I had married for love; she married for the hope of a green card.

I was trying to be a team player that compromised; she thought I was a wimp.

Going to marriage counseling was a cruel joke. She had no idea how to work on the problems we were having. All she wanted to know was when would this inconvenience be over? Hey, I paid the rent and utilities, the car was mine, I kicked had her out. She had acted badly for 4 years, she could give me a couple months, thank you very much. So I started thinking about could I go the rest of my life and never ever look back without regret about divorcing her (and that took 2 months of soul searching), and come up with a solid “this is so over”… then she decided she should back off to give me a chance to really think about the situation clearly. The counselor pointed out to her that the time for that had passed. And that was our last session.

Wrap it up and call the lawyers. No kids. No house. No assets. No problem.

And then I started painting.

One picture of a beach sliced into 4 different times of day. (Morning, early afternoon, evening, and late night.)

Another of an owl’s face.

There were two others I cannot remember. I went to my job during the day. Solving cold logic problems. But I was in some sort of foggy haze.

And the last of a Geisha bowing. Either she is me and the shame I felt at allowing myself to be hurt so deeply by being so dumb, sweet, and trusting. Or she is Karma or Kannon as I imagine her briefly bowing to me, offering sympathy and understanding. And there are so many other ways to interpret the bow and that situation I was in.

Then the haze lifted. And I needed to find good homes for some of the paintings because I could not live with those reminders for the rest of my life. (Except for the beach. I liked and kept the beach. Somehow the sand and surf at the beach is timeless.) And it was time to move on.

The paintings and some poems were the best things to come of the first marriage.

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