There were six of us in the pub last week, blokes in our 40s and early 50s. None of us alcoholics, nutjobs, liars, gamblers or serial adulterers (only me that's even done occasional adultery). All of us Dads - full-on committed to our kids, hands on child-rearers and full time wage earners. And out of the six of us, only one still lives with the mother of his kids. The rest, dumped, pushed out or left by our women - set asunder, as the marriage vows would put it.
Our partners were unhappy, not bullied, degraded or abused. I know that does happen - happened to my sister, who literally ran for her life with her kids when her rapist bully husband walked free from court. But it ain't happening among my mates.
So what's going on? One mate blames a local mafia - or coven, depending on his mood. Women who know each other really well, know the situations and see less and less reason not to copy - a domino effect of divorces rippling through our close neighbourhood.
Maybe. Or maybe there's something else. What have these women got in common? No sense of humour, most of them. I know that sounds trite, but perhaps there's more to it. These women - all in their 40s - grew into their first relationships in the highly politicised 1980s and early 90s. A bloody serious time. Face it, there weren't many laughs in Red Wedge. And there was Cosmo telling them they could have it all - career, relationship, family, boob-job, ongoing youthfulness. And it just ain't so. Unless you're damn lucky or gifted.
You've grown up thinking that the personal is political - not philosophical. So you need a plan of action, rather than a philosophical shrug, an acceptance of disappointment as part of life, and an attempt to smile with it. So when the disappointments seep in to their late 30s, they get moving, take action on us, set us asunder. Start looking for another relationship to make them happy.
(note - only one of us dumpees is going out with another woman, three of the dumpers are already living with another bloke. Although I did get an email on the blog site today offering "a love relationship" with some woman from Russia, maybe I've scored!)
I was walking the dog this morning - past the house of the last one of my mates to still live with his family. Propped up behind the wheelie bin, a cardboard box for a DVD HD Hard Disk recorder. New stuff. I can't even think about buying new stuff without worrying about money. He's got two incomes supporting one home. I'm spreading my one income over two homes. What a bloody waste, what a bloody waste of money, time and effort.
Grrr.
