I've posted about this before. My live-in girlfriend of seven years is, right now, out with her new boyfriend, who's visiting from another country. I haven't seen her for a week. As far as I know, they're together in some hotel somewhere. She's still working during the day, but I assume she's spending her nights getting rammed by this guy, who she claims loves her the way I didn't. Of course, I know her the way he doesn't, and he's unaware of, oh, the laziness, the constantly being high, the refusal to help and so on, but I just figured something else out.

She just failed a test.

When we finally had it out, one of the things she said was that she realized I was never, ever going to marry her, which was interesting, because a) I'd made that clear from the very beginning; and b) Just when things started to blow up, I had actually suggested we discuss getting married. I know, I know ...

But as I sit here and look back on this, I'm thinking about something my mother, who is really smart, said to me, which was that there was a reason I didn't propose. I think I know what it is: I was testing her. I'm divorced, and before I even consider signing up for something like marriage again, I needed to see and understand what I was getting into. At first, I didn't propose because I was in no financial or emotional shape to even consider it, but later, I was sort of holding back and watching and waiting. Thank God I did.

Despite all her bullshit about being independent, she wanted to be protected and taken care of. But without that ring, just as two humans together, she wasn't good at all. Like, at all. I wanted, I think, to see if this person was kind. Interesting. Smart. Respectful. Someone I would want to be with whether or not we were married. And the answer was: nope.

Zero sex. Zero efforts to make me comfortable or happy -- she never cooks anything, never cleans, has no respect for my opinions, interests or anything else, and does things like talk to me like I'm twelve years old. Which is interesting, given that I went to an Ivy League school and worked my ass off, and she spent college drinking beer and sucking off athletes. You'd think she might be interested in maybe learning something. Nah.

So I hunkered down, stood pat, and didn't do anything, kind of waited, and then she put the cherry on the sundae by doing something really stupid. Although it's embarassing, and a little bit painful, what I also feel is an enormous sense of relief. Marrying that would have been a nightmare. I dodged a bullet.

And I never lied to her. I never used her. I took very good care of her. But she didn't appreciate what she had, had no interest in reciprocating, proved it, and now I'm starting to look for another place to live, and she's utterly fucked. I waited a long time to see what I really had in front of me, and I've found out.

Thank the good Lord above I did not get married.