Every time I’ve made the decision in my head to declare that I intended to divorce, I second guess how happy I’ll be. 30 years married, empty nesters. I stupidly let my wife engineer total control over finances and implement a near total surveillance state (cameras everywhere, must allow phone tracking or there’s hell to pay). She disliked my friends to the point where I lost them all years ago. I’m a meek “nice guy” who’s never even glanced at another woman; there’s no reason for this. She tracks our adult daughter who is hundreds of miles away — badgers her into allowing it — so it’s not just me. So, financially, I have to wait a year to start getting an income again from Social Security (retired 3 years now) My wife still works and gets high pay, but it’s not worth it to go for alimony with only a year left. And she’ll retire in a year or two anyway. It’s been a sexless marriage for over a decade, and what little affection there is, is highly dysfunctional on her part. “Give head massage to me; but I don’t want to touch you” “give back massage to me, but if you try to turn it into a hug, yoy’ll get an elbow to the balls”. “I love yous” alternating with “I hatw yous” And long moods where every single thing I do is wrong! A steady stream of derision “It’s just like you to pick the left parking spot.” And this: she’d NEVER EVER consent to therapy couples or alone. I stopped making that suggestion decades ago. Her go-to response since day 1 to anything she doesn’t like is “Divorce!” Which I originally shrugged off as childish, but now I am going to actually call her bluff.

Not that every moment is a living hell. We have at least two meals a day and discuss things like politics and gossip. We Wordle every day. We watch Househunters International together most nights. Even though she’s the sole breadwinner, she allows me $50 a week for online Spanish lessons and another $50 for online gaming. We’re civil and complimentary to eachother at these times. But it’s pseudo-platonic. She needs constant validation that she’s alluring, but NO TOUCHING. A compulsive cocktease — it belies problems. And she refuses vehemently to address them.

So, I have a year to build some kind of support system. But really, at 62, is there hope to be in a better relationship? Well, moot question, the rest of my life alone is better than this.

MY FIRST THERAPY SESSION STARTS TOMORROW.