Jonny Cox's Blog, page 5
September 5, 2013
Serendipity?
On a gloriously sunny day, I was driving through the Wiltshire countryside, a long way from home. Two of us were going to a meeting, I was a passenger, and had not planned the route, so I was a little surprised to drive past the house that I bought with my first wife and have been renting out for the last ten years.
It has been up for sale to fund my current wife's departure from our home. Oddly, almost at the very moment we drove past it, I got a phone call from the estate agent to say that the tenant had bought it. I am glad that this is progressing so I can get on with my life but I also have some sadness at the loss of the fine house.
It's a totally illogical feeling for I was never really going to live in the house again; my parents are in Yorkshire and my estranged family will be in Bedfordshire, so being stuck in Wiltshire was never going to work for me. Moreover, I was never happy in the house. Indeed, it was the scene of much unhappiness for me, a place where my first wife shunned and eventually abandoned me.
But it is a fine house which overlooks deciduous forest and prime farmland and I had a vague notion of opening up the loft with Dorma windows so I could create a writing den; a place of solitude and reflection where I could stare out over the landscape and conjure up stories of ogres in the woods and stolen princesses who are rescued by handsome princes on big black horses.
It was a vague notion that was never likely to happen and hanging on to the idea held me back, tied me to a place that I left a decade and two wives ago. So, it was, perhaps, serendipitous that I drove past it today and could leave it behind.
It has been up for sale to fund my current wife's departure from our home. Oddly, almost at the very moment we drove past it, I got a phone call from the estate agent to say that the tenant had bought it. I am glad that this is progressing so I can get on with my life but I also have some sadness at the loss of the fine house.
It's a totally illogical feeling for I was never really going to live in the house again; my parents are in Yorkshire and my estranged family will be in Bedfordshire, so being stuck in Wiltshire was never going to work for me. Moreover, I was never happy in the house. Indeed, it was the scene of much unhappiness for me, a place where my first wife shunned and eventually abandoned me.
But it is a fine house which overlooks deciduous forest and prime farmland and I had a vague notion of opening up the loft with Dorma windows so I could create a writing den; a place of solitude and reflection where I could stare out over the landscape and conjure up stories of ogres in the woods and stolen princesses who are rescued by handsome princes on big black horses.
It was a vague notion that was never likely to happen and hanging on to the idea held me back, tied me to a place that I left a decade and two wives ago. So, it was, perhaps, serendipitous that I drove past it today and could leave it behind.
August 28, 2013
Impossible to Love?
Whilst searching for some lost keys, I found my first wedding ring; it was one of those laugh or cry moments. Actually, I did neither and shrugged the moment off but I was left wondering what two redundant wedding rings represented: bad luck in that the women I married lacked the commitment I sought; bad judgement that I married such women; failure on my part to be a good husband; or something more fundamental than that?
A girlfriend once told me that I was an easy man to fall in love with, but impossible to love for long. She was naked at the time, lying next to me in post-coital depression, and I felt that for her to have been so physically intimate with me whilst being simultaneously detached, demanded a rare strength of character. Carla had accepted me into her body knowing that I would never connect emotionally with the same vehemence.
Later, she rolled onto her back and accepted me again in temporary unison. She curled a leg around my back, capturing me for a moment as her own, before relaxing back and releasing me from her embrace, dismmissing me as a temporary distraction because I was impossible to love. She was beautiful and I never told her so.
Perhaps that is why I have two empty rings.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...
A girlfriend once told me that I was an easy man to fall in love with, but impossible to love for long. She was naked at the time, lying next to me in post-coital depression, and I felt that for her to have been so physically intimate with me whilst being simultaneously detached, demanded a rare strength of character. Carla had accepted me into her body knowing that I would never connect emotionally with the same vehemence.
Later, she rolled onto her back and accepted me again in temporary unison. She curled a leg around my back, capturing me for a moment as her own, before relaxing back and releasing me from her embrace, dismmissing me as a temporary distraction because I was impossible to love. She was beautiful and I never told her so.
Perhaps that is why I have two empty rings.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...
August 22, 2013
Island Life
I do miss the ring, though. I miss feeling it on my finger. When I am sat in dull meetings or trapped in cringeable conversations, I find my fingers feeling for it, trying to find the reassuring hardness around my finger. I suppose it gave depth and certainty to my life; another living metaphor for life on my own.
"No man is an island, entire of itself," wrote John Donne in the Seventeenth Century work 'Devotions'. He talks about 'chapters' in life and this certainly feels like a new chapter for me. I lived as an island for long enough and although I found happiness living in close proximity with another person, doing so now in a fractured relationship is more isolating than living alone.
Living entire of myself will probably be less lonely. As I write the sequel,'Solomon Was Right', the issue becomes one of readers' interest: how much self analysis can a book stand?
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...
"No man is an island, entire of itself," wrote John Donne in the Seventeenth Century work 'Devotions'. He talks about 'chapters' in life and this certainly feels like a new chapter for me. I lived as an island for long enough and although I found happiness living in close proximity with another person, doing so now in a fractured relationship is more isolating than living alone.
Living entire of myself will probably be less lonely. As I write the sequel,'Solomon Was Right', the issue becomes one of readers' interest: how much self analysis can a book stand?
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...
August 16, 2013
Forever.
I removed my wedding ring today; the final acceptance that my marriage had failed. Doing so evoked familiar sensations of transition. Of feelings that despite a decade together, three children and solemn promises now broken, I was only ever a transition for my wife.
The ring was hard to remove, as if it was reluctant to release me from its grasp, from the commitment of marriage. Eventually, it came off, leaving a mark on my finger, an indentation to show that it belonged there and hoped to go back.
I sipped espresso and rubbed my finger. The lingering indentation seemed like a metaphor, reminding me that marriage should last forever.
But by the time I finished my coffee, the mark had gone.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...
The ring was hard to remove, as if it was reluctant to release me from its grasp, from the commitment of marriage. Eventually, it came off, leaving a mark on my finger, an indentation to show that it belonged there and hoped to go back.
I sipped espresso and rubbed my finger. The lingering indentation seemed like a metaphor, reminding me that marriage should last forever.
But by the time I finished my coffee, the mark had gone.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...
August 15, 2013
Transition.
Marriage is usually considered to be the beginning for two people developing their lives together. For us it was just a transition, a temporary phase before we resumed solitary living, although whether my wife was cognisant of that when she began the journey is unclear.
I have to believe she was genuinely in love and that diagnosis of my MS was a test of that, which she overcame. The elephant in the room, however, is that she was 29, had already tried on the wedding dress and was probably already thinking of the names she might call the daughter that she would surely have: few women would walk away from that scenario simply because their future husband might get ill. Divorce is so easy and my ex-wife gets enduring support without commitment. How could she refuse?
But I could have walked away from it. My wife displayed difficult character traits even before we married; self-focus, short temper, irrationally wild responses to mild irritation. She was a lot like her mother and I suppose I hoped she would not get that bad, just as she must have hoped that my disability might not get that bad. That she wants to divorce is not a surprise, she is too self obsessed to live with disability, no matter how mild and I knew this. But I was equally unable to turn my back on marriage, on the chance to be a father, because I knew that no other woman would develop a relationship with me; it was a gamble I had to take.
Being in love made us trapped, unable to respond appropriately to my diagnosis; she because she was nearly thirty and single and me because I would not then find someone else.
For us, love was always just a transition.
I have to believe she was genuinely in love and that diagnosis of my MS was a test of that, which she overcame. The elephant in the room, however, is that she was 29, had already tried on the wedding dress and was probably already thinking of the names she might call the daughter that she would surely have: few women would walk away from that scenario simply because their future husband might get ill. Divorce is so easy and my ex-wife gets enduring support without commitment. How could she refuse?
But I could have walked away from it. My wife displayed difficult character traits even before we married; self-focus, short temper, irrationally wild responses to mild irritation. She was a lot like her mother and I suppose I hoped she would not get that bad, just as she must have hoped that my disability might not get that bad. That she wants to divorce is not a surprise, she is too self obsessed to live with disability, no matter how mild and I knew this. But I was equally unable to turn my back on marriage, on the chance to be a father, because I knew that no other woman would develop a relationship with me; it was a gamble I had to take.
Being in love made us trapped, unable to respond appropriately to my diagnosis; she because she was nearly thirty and single and me because I would not then find someone else.
For us, love was always just a transition.
August 5, 2013
Why?
As a writer and a potential divorcee, I am emotionally and intellectually wrestling with the issues involved in splitting a family. It is as if I am living the sequel, the story writing itself; an advantage of writing memoir based fiction.
The big question is why? Why in all its contexts: from why are we breaking up to why did we get married in the first place? The answer is with my wife but it’s not something she is able or prepared to explain. She is dispassionately determined about it, claiming that living with my MS is too difficult, even though I was diagnosed before we married. She says also that we have nothing in common but that was also apparent before we were wed.
Perhaps it is because my wife has achieved all her objectives in getting married. Her children are funded by someone else, she has a big house paid for by someone else and she will enjoy security in the future, again funded by someone else.
It is a logical explanation which implies that marriage for my wife was simply a career move. When we met, she was a 29 year old foreign national with a soon-to-expire work visa, living in a one bed flat, carrying a lot of debt and with a mother in poor health living illegally in Australia. All my wife’s problems were sorted with a simple ‘I do’. Now the ‘someone else’ funding the plan seems to be surplus to requirements and can be dismissed.
It is difficult to reconcile the reality of a distant wife with the woman I thought I loved. Was it not enough to meet in Basra, Iraq, and then become lovers in Jamaica and the Maldives? Was our perfect family of three happy sons and a mother who could afford to stay at home if she wished not enough?
Indeed, the big question is why. It’s a question that I will explore in intimate detail in Solomon Was Right but it’s a question that I sense I will never answer.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...
The big question is why? Why in all its contexts: from why are we breaking up to why did we get married in the first place? The answer is with my wife but it’s not something she is able or prepared to explain. She is dispassionately determined about it, claiming that living with my MS is too difficult, even though I was diagnosed before we married. She says also that we have nothing in common but that was also apparent before we were wed.
Perhaps it is because my wife has achieved all her objectives in getting married. Her children are funded by someone else, she has a big house paid for by someone else and she will enjoy security in the future, again funded by someone else.
It is a logical explanation which implies that marriage for my wife was simply a career move. When we met, she was a 29 year old foreign national with a soon-to-expire work visa, living in a one bed flat, carrying a lot of debt and with a mother in poor health living illegally in Australia. All my wife’s problems were sorted with a simple ‘I do’. Now the ‘someone else’ funding the plan seems to be surplus to requirements and can be dismissed.
It is difficult to reconcile the reality of a distant wife with the woman I thought I loved. Was it not enough to meet in Basra, Iraq, and then become lovers in Jamaica and the Maldives? Was our perfect family of three happy sons and a mother who could afford to stay at home if she wished not enough?
Indeed, the big question is why. It’s a question that I will explore in intimate detail in Solomon Was Right but it’s a question that I sense I will never answer.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...
August 3, 2013
Liberation
I am home alone watching 'A Bridge Too Far', the classic WW2 movie about the airborne invasion of Arnhem.
Michael Caine is driving up the road through throngs of cheering civvies. His column links up with a US unit whose commander complains about the crowd impeding the progress of his troops.
"They're celebrating," says Michael Caine. "Haven't you ever been liberated before?"
"I've been divorced twice," replies the American. "Does that count?"
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...
Michael Caine is driving up the road through throngs of cheering civvies. His column links up with a US unit whose commander complains about the crowd impeding the progress of his troops.
"They're celebrating," says Michael Caine. "Haven't you ever been liberated before?"
"I've been divorced twice," replies the American. "Does that count?"
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...
August 2, 2013
Unreasonable Behaviour
Divorce (and the sequel) progress steadily, if a little slowly. Assets are being distributed, patterns established, relationships re-negotiated. My solicitor urged caution that I don't prompt difficult responses from my wife simply in order to make the plot line for 'Solomon Was Right' more interesting.
"It would be an expensive way of developing the story," he said. Solicitors are dull.
"I'm going to petition you for divorce on grounds of unreasonable behaviour," I told my wife. She was unhappy.
"I'm not agreeing to that! I haven't been unreasonable."
"We don't have sex, you've moved into the spare room, you show no affection and you've said that you can't cope with my disability. That's all unreasonable behaviour," I replied. She wouldn't agree; the judge will have to decide.
My first wife responded in the same way. Even though she went to bed early on the first night of honeymoon, moved into the spare room shortly afterwards and permanently left the house after four months, she still wouldn't accept that she had behaved unreasonably. The judge was clear.
The trouble with girls is that they seem to think they can behave with impunity. Just because they walk out of a marriage doesn't mean they should be blamed for breaking it up, should they? Just because they infringe most of their wedding vows, doesn't make them unreasonable does it?
"It would be an expensive way of developing the story," he said. Solicitors are dull.
"I'm going to petition you for divorce on grounds of unreasonable behaviour," I told my wife. She was unhappy.
"I'm not agreeing to that! I haven't been unreasonable."
"We don't have sex, you've moved into the spare room, you show no affection and you've said that you can't cope with my disability. That's all unreasonable behaviour," I replied. She wouldn't agree; the judge will have to decide.
My first wife responded in the same way. Even though she went to bed early on the first night of honeymoon, moved into the spare room shortly afterwards and permanently left the house after four months, she still wouldn't accept that she had behaved unreasonably. The judge was clear.
The trouble with girls is that they seem to think they can behave with impunity. Just because they walk out of a marriage doesn't mean they should be blamed for breaking it up, should they? Just because they infringe most of their wedding vows, doesn't make them unreasonable does it?
August 1, 2013
In Reality…
I was getting used to the idea of divorce. The thought of having my own space and time was quite appealing. I was looking forward to being more of myself. I was planning to write more and the sense of being able to sustain an idea and follow the threads to conclusion was attractive. Writing would be my therapy.
In reality, however, divorce means the end of family. For seven years I have been with my little men morning and night; we’re a team. Last night, my five YO son asked me:
”Will you get a house right next to us, daddy, so we will still see you always?” My wife has obviously told the boys that we're breaking up as a family.
Reality crashed in. It was like a hand reached into my chest and gripped my heart. Like a gangster in a film explaining what will happen if the good guy doesn’t pay up.
How does someone do that; develop something as close and integral as a family unit and then just rip it apart because they don’t like being married? Is there no conscience? No consideration of what the children think? It’s almost like I am living the sequel to Trouble With Girls. I think the tragic irony of Billy Hanson ending up alone as a weekend dad will make a better story than the original happy ending of Billy and the boys living a scene from ‘It’s a Wonderful life’. It was too simplistic, too Hollywood. The sequel will be better as a tragedy, or at least a tragi-comedy.
But I don’t necessarily want to be myself. Billy Hanson had a lot of fun but DaddyJ was who I had become, who I wanted to be. The sequel might be better as a tragedy, but in reality, I wanted a happy ending.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...
In reality, however, divorce means the end of family. For seven years I have been with my little men morning and night; we’re a team. Last night, my five YO son asked me:
”Will you get a house right next to us, daddy, so we will still see you always?” My wife has obviously told the boys that we're breaking up as a family.
Reality crashed in. It was like a hand reached into my chest and gripped my heart. Like a gangster in a film explaining what will happen if the good guy doesn’t pay up.
How does someone do that; develop something as close and integral as a family unit and then just rip it apart because they don’t like being married? Is there no conscience? No consideration of what the children think? It’s almost like I am living the sequel to Trouble With Girls. I think the tragic irony of Billy Hanson ending up alone as a weekend dad will make a better story than the original happy ending of Billy and the boys living a scene from ‘It’s a Wonderful life’. It was too simplistic, too Hollywood. The sequel will be better as a tragedy, or at least a tragi-comedy.
But I don’t necessarily want to be myself. Billy Hanson had a lot of fun but DaddyJ was who I had become, who I wanted to be. The sequel might be better as a tragedy, but in reality, I wanted a happy ending.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...
July 15, 2013
Breaking bad habits.
Marrying unsuitable women and then divorcing them for unreasonable behaviour is a habit I need to break. To be fair, however, in neither case did I realise how unsuitable or unreasonable either of my wives were. I guess I’m just a sucker for a good blow job (no pun intended) and both were quite good at it; until we got married, of course.
My current wife (I quite like the temporary nature of that expression) has decided that despite having prior knowledge of it, being married to a man with MS is no fun. She wants a 4 bed house, me to pay all the bills, baby sit in the evening and weekends whilst she goes to work, and, and... Basically, she wants things as they are but without me in the way.
We are already seeing solicitors and I wasted an hour of my life and a couple of hundred quid seeing a 'mediator' this afternoon. She was an ancient old bird who barely seemed to be conscious of what she was doing; just one more person jumping on the misery bandwagon with their hand out. Still, she was a glorious character with thinning grey hair, extended stomach, mismatched clothes and an old fashioned Enid Blyton accent. She would make a wonderful caricature in the sequel to 'The Trouble With Girls'.
The demise of marriage is sad but the notion of having my own pad and looking after the boys at weekends and a couple of evenings a week without maternal interference (criticism) has some appeal. It would also allow me to do other things like stay at work a bit later in the evening to relieve the pressure during the day, go to the gym, and write more books.
Writing the sequel to TWG would be cathartic. Writing the situation down is healing, helps to rationalise and see if I could have somehow held my family together. I was going to call it 'Taming the Beast'; the basic premise being that love can endure and help two people overcome any adversity. That's clearly bollocks, though, so I'm now going to call the sequel 'Solomon Was Right: it is better to live in the wilderness than with an angry woman'.
My current wife (I quite like the temporary nature of that expression) has decided that despite having prior knowledge of it, being married to a man with MS is no fun. She wants a 4 bed house, me to pay all the bills, baby sit in the evening and weekends whilst she goes to work, and, and... Basically, she wants things as they are but without me in the way.
We are already seeing solicitors and I wasted an hour of my life and a couple of hundred quid seeing a 'mediator' this afternoon. She was an ancient old bird who barely seemed to be conscious of what she was doing; just one more person jumping on the misery bandwagon with their hand out. Still, she was a glorious character with thinning grey hair, extended stomach, mismatched clothes and an old fashioned Enid Blyton accent. She would make a wonderful caricature in the sequel to 'The Trouble With Girls'.
The demise of marriage is sad but the notion of having my own pad and looking after the boys at weekends and a couple of evenings a week without maternal interference (criticism) has some appeal. It would also allow me to do other things like stay at work a bit later in the evening to relieve the pressure during the day, go to the gym, and write more books.
Writing the sequel to TWG would be cathartic. Writing the situation down is healing, helps to rationalise and see if I could have somehow held my family together. I was going to call it 'Taming the Beast'; the basic premise being that love can endure and help two people overcome any adversity. That's clearly bollocks, though, so I'm now going to call the sequel 'Solomon Was Right: it is better to live in the wilderness than with an angry woman'.
