Part I: Then there was the time I married the incompatible stranger
Part II
Okay, so the burning question is Why did I marry George, the incompatible stranger? (I know this, because any time I’ve told this story in real life, it’s the first question people ask: Why???)
The answer, quite simply, is I married George because he was different from Bob.
Bob and I had been together for a few years and had only recently broken up when I met George. Bob was a nice guy, and he played the guitar and sang and wrote me songs and loved my son and my dog. But he just could not get his shit together. He seemed utterly blind to the relationship between actions and consequences.
“If it weren’t for bad luck,” he’d moan, “I’d have no luck at all.”
He attributed everything that happened in his life to luck.
Here’s an example. He couldn’t afford to drive, but he couldn’t imagine life without a car, so he bought some piece of crap car on its last legs for $140 and said he’d drive it til it died. Okay, fair enough. But the piece of crap car had a broken gas gauge and Bob couldn’t afford gas. So he’d only put $5 worth of gas into it at a time, and he’d drive it til it ran out of gas. Then he’d go on about how unlucky he was, running out of gas and having to walk three miles to the nearest gas station and not having any money for the deposit on the gas can, and why do these things always happen to him?
Sometimes I was tempted to point out that running out of gas three times every single week is not bad luck. But I didn’t say anything because it seemed somehow mean-spirited to kick a man when he’s down. And Bob was always down.
Another example. Bob couldn’t afford to pay for parking, so he’d park at an empty meter and hope for the best. Naturally, he got a lot of parking tickets, which he couldn’t afford to pay, and which again he chalked up to bad luck. One time he drove to Pembroke to visit his daughter and got pulled over for unpaid tickets and jailed. JAILED! Such bad luck.
No matter what was going on, he felt powerless to do anything about anything. His favourite expression was “My hands are tied.” More than anything, this drove me crazy. He’d just sit there shrugging his shoulders, giving up on everything without even trying, and resigning himself to his fate.
I often pondered where that sense of powerlessness came from. I think it was because as children he and his little brother were sentenced to St. Joseph’s Training School in Alfred for stealing a plastic wading pool from someone’s yard. I think they were 12 and 9 at the time. (Coincidentally, their youngest brother, who had been given up for adoption at birth, and who was raised in a different city, and who they didn’t even know existed, also did time in Alfred as a boy.)
Bob was in Alfred for years. Alfred, if you recall, was the subject of a huge investigation in the 90s which resulted in multiple charges being laid against many of the Christian Brothers who ran the place, for decades of sexual and physical abuse of the boys in their care. There were trials, convictions, suicides, and, eventually, paltry compensation packages and half-assed apologies.
Although Bob said he was never sexually abused, he was frequently beaten and he saw other boys taken from their beds at night to be sexually abused. He also told me that some boys simply disappeared without explanation, often after a beating or under suspicious circumstances, and that the children at the school believed these boys had been killed by the Christian Brothers.
Can you imagine what it would be like to be a little kid living in an institution run by deviants with so much power? And how powerless you would feel in the face of such institutionalized abuse? I think that’s why Bob grew up to be the man he did, and why he felt his hands were tied and there was nothing he could do about anything. To his credit, however, he also grew up to be a decent, kind and gentle man in spite of it all.
So what does any of this have to do with me marrying George the Incompatible Stranger? Well. Bob and I broke up at least in part because it drove me crazy to be with someone who was perpetually plagued by preventable problems. In a relationship, you have to share each others misfortunes to a certain extent, and I’d had enough.
Shortly after breaking up with Bob, I met George, who billed himself as a problem-solver, a man of action, a man who knew how to get things done. At this particular juncture in my life, these qualities were undeniably appealing. I was blinded by his bright shiny problem-solving skills, by his confidence, by his power. I was drawn like a moth to a flame by the ways in which his strengths corresponded to Bob’s weaknesses.
I realize, of course, that it was mind-bogglingly dumb of me to marry someone for those reasons, especially after knowing him for less than a hundred days, and especially when he’s still concealing all his own weaknesses. But that is why I married the Incompatible Stranger.
In all due respect, I don’t believe any of it. It is complete & utter fiction.
So, what happened to the house? You just left it with George?
I swear it is all true.
This makes complete sense to me. Frighteningly so, in fact.
Makes sense to me…. and it’s been my reasoning that we all do stupid things when were in love. Love doesn’t always last, or it changes, but it still makes you do stupid things
And of course, the next question is, “Why Bob?” … and herein lies your novel … just keeping pushing backwards for explanations …
Of course that is what life is all about … a series of mistakes made for reasons …
And if you are lucky you eventually figure it all out. I am glad you did soon enough.
Tom. I like to think if I were going to make up the history of my love life, I’d cast myself in a more flattering light. And if George and Bob leave you skeptical, wait’ll you hear about some of the earlier ones. (I responded to your house question in the comments of the original post, btw.)
Aggie – we should get together and trade stories sometime.
Valerie, the nice thing about getting older is that you have enough history to allow you to explore the highly disturbing patterns of your love life.
Oma, I fell for Bob because he wasn’t Dave. 😉
This is so human. I agree with Aggie, it makes sense to me too.
Amazing!
Dave!
MUST
KNOW
ABOUT
DAVE
I totally get this Zoom! I know I was attracted to Papa Pan because he was Wesley’s complete opposite in the areas that I found most upsetting about Wesley.
I firmly believe that the things that are our strengths as people are firmly attached to our weaknesses – for example “passionate” is a double edged sword isn’t it?
Thanks for sharing. I do hope you write a book.
I used to be so afraid to make mistakes. But as I get older I realize that may be I haven’t made enough mistakes. Very weird, I know.
Although it does not make sense (in the sense that it is sensible), I believe you. I have seen far too many women end up with men who have limited value for a relationship. I just don’t get that. It is like the woman can’t believe they are worth anything, so when some boob comes along and uses a bit of persuasion, they’re like “OK” …and then later they are like “I can’t believe I was so stupid” or “what crappy luck” (kind of like Bob actually). Perhaps it is not surprising…we humans give ourselves far too much credit in the intelligence category.
J, you’re right, it’s so human. Disturbingly so.
Julia – ‘amazing’ is one of those words like ‘interesting’. (It’s okay, I know it’s not amazing in a good way.)
Patti’O: Dave was ‘interesting’….
Mudmama – AND, in keeping with my theory, Papa Pan followed pretty closely on the heels of Wesley too. (I know exactly what you mean – our own strengths and weaknesses tend to be two sides of the same coin.)
Re – yup, mistakes are useful. If you’re not making mistakes, you’re not challenging yourself enough. The only thing to watch out for is that you don’t keep making the same mistakes over and over again.
Don, our closeup view and hindsight are often polar opposites too, especially when it comes to relationships. They’re both extremes, and they both tend to miss the subtle shades of grey. That’s why exes can be capable of such bitterness and hatred.
Everybody – I’d feel better if you all started sharing historical examples from your own love lives. 😉 I might even be inspired to dig a little deeper and tell you about some of my earlier – and more mortifying – examples.
I wrote a whole essay about some of my mistakes made when I was way older than you are!
What happened to Bob at that school could have turned into an abusive, angry man. Instead he was one of the nicest, good hearted guys you have known, very similar to John in some ways. But he was a “sad sack” and did dumb things and didn’t seem to learn a lesson from his mistakes – almost electricuting himselves a few times, using his leg to stablized a board while he cut it with a skill saw. But he could sing “Southern Cross” like no other, and I sure enjoyed those early morning beers and rum & cokes with him at the Cottage.
Don’t know what happened to my spelling – too many beers and rum & cokes last night. insert “him” after turned, “electrocuting”, “himself”, “stabilize”.
Your description of Bob puts some puzzle pieces together for me in understanding a couple people I’ve known.
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