An apology to my ex-husband:
Now that our divorce is final and I’ve had some time to reflect, I realize I owe you an apology. The divorce got a little ugly.
There was the name calling. I admit, calling you a whore was over the top. Cheating SOB, still rings true. But whore was out of line. I’m sorry.
Then there was dividing up the property and belongings. I got a little petty. I’m sorry.
I really didn’t want your grandfather’s old baseball glove signed by that guy. What was his name again? Babe something? I just knew you wanted it. That was petty of me. So, to make amends, I gave it to that kid down the street. You remember him? His dad said he couldn’t possibly accept it, but I insisted. He looked so cute wearing it. Made me realize all the good that came out of our divorce.
Then there was the motorcycle. I know it was your prized possession. You had a lot of memories with it. I knew that, and yet, I made sure I got it in the divorce. That was petty of me. I’m sorry.
All those memories. There’s the time you spent all that money on it without so much as running it by me. Even though we had been saving the money for a new dishwasher so I wouldn’t have to wash the dishes by hand anymore. Our old one had broken eight months earlier, so, really, you were right to think I was crazy for getting mad. Eight months is hardly any time at all to wash dishes by hand, three meals a day, for four people. You said it was a guy thing and you just needed some time alone on the open road. Do you remember that? Good times.
Then there was that time you were riding it with that two-bit blonde hussy plastered to your back and I pulled up next to you in the SUV with our kids in the backseat on the way home from the grocery store. That was such a fun conversation for me to have with them. I especially love that they call her Auntie Jennie now. Do you remember that? Good times.
I realize now how petty I was, how much that motorcycle meant to you, and how mean spirited I was being just letting it get covered in dust in the garage. My therapist says I need to let go, not hold onto that negative energy. So I’ve decided to give it back to you. It’s all yours. You just have to pick it up.
I brought it to the beach. The one you used to take me to when we were first dating. The one where you proposed to me. We used to have bon fires. Do you remember that?
That’s where I left the motorcycle for you to pick up. While I was there, I thought I’d have one last bon fire. You know, to celebrate the new me. The me that isn’t so petty. It was really beautiful. I took a picture. Good times.