So, the Smiths are no more. It's not like they are buried, or have met what peasants call death. Their physical beings are out and about still, for better or for worse. But their relationship can very well be considered "inexistent" except for the shared paternity of young xxxxx, product of this catastrophic marriage presently dissolved like an Alka-Seltzer. I ran into ex Mrs. Smith at a party -may the Gods bless her- and I learned all about it.

The Smiths. That entity made up of Joseph and the heaven-sent girl he left me for, three and a half years ago. I was surprised to find an e-mail from CR last friday, and for some reason I dreaded reading it. I didn't think it would contain any big news, perhaps that he'd gotten my postcard (he did)...it's just that he's so solemn in his writing and usually I get a lot of lip service from him and I feel both honored and embarrassed.

I read the above paragraph. I felt healed. Validated. Relieved. I couldn't believe it. Of course a part of me was always waiting/wishing for that to happen, for a number of subjective and objective reasons, but I'd made peace with the fact that they were on their way to happily-ever-after-'til-death-do-them-apart. There is a child involved, also, so anytime I remembered my being atrociously dumped and wished the marriage to end, I thought of that kid I don't know and hope to never see. And so I'd stop the waiting and the wishing, because there are more than enough kids with divorced parents and we don't want another one. But there you go.

Still, I couldn't believe it. I never expected to hear this. I couldn't stop smiling, and I sprung out of my chair and walked over to Andrew and asked him, grinning, "has it ever happened to you, that history ends up agreeing with you?". He asked what was it about and inmediately said, "is it about an ex?". I was caught off guard and said yes. "Aw, don't be mean", he replied. That was our entire exchange but I felt really bad, because I was being mean and because he was seeing me being mean to a former partner of mine.

That calmed me down. I still felt like the nightmare was over, though. I thought it was pretty sad that I needed for that relationship to end so I could finally be this ok about it. But I didn't think I needed that until now that it's happened. I suppose that marriage, that relationship since its very beggining, was a slap in the face of how I wasn't good enough for Joseph. Well, at least the alternative to me wasn't that good either.

The paragraph that CR wrote was all he said on the subject. He then kept going about me moving on, that I was ok but I could be better and that "all greatness is built upon suffering" (he used to tell me that during my worst breakdowns about the Smiths). I wrote back briefly stating that I didn't know what to say and that I was sorry for their son. That much was true.

The questions started to come to my mind throughout the day. When did it happen? Who chose to end the marriage and why? How was that marriage, anyway ("catastrophic"?)? How is Joseph doing? Is either of them or both still in love with the other in spite of their differences? What about the kid? Did they ended in good terms? Will they ever get back together? Did they move out of Joseph's parents, where were they living, what were they doing for a living? That night I had a dream with the Smiths (meh, they're still that in my head) but I couldn't remember what it was about. I took it as a sign of something I told myself shortly after reading CR's letter: none of this concerns me.

The first thing that came to my mind once the news hit was, "yes, they didn't make it to four!". Four years, and six months, like Joseph and I. That'd be my only claim to fame in his book, I guess, his longest relationship. I was afraid and certain that was going to change with Mrs Smith. It had to, for she was his wife.

They made it to three and a half years or so, according to my numbers, and I couldn't help feeling like Jack's smirking revenge. Also, I was surprised by how egocentric and vengeful I was being, but I'll be honest: it felt so fucking good. After all I went through thanks to Joseph and his fairy tale, and after me fighting to death to be the bigger person while drowning in such mess, I deserve a little vacation.

Then I put things in perspective: breaking up such a serious relationship can't be easy. I was devastated when it happened to me, and luckily there wasn't any legal stuff to deal with nor a third little person to consider. So the Smiths and little Smith must have had/be having a really hard time. Of course, a little voice in me asked: "do you think all this has made him think of me?". Like in that Edgar Allan Poe story that bears my name, where the lady with my name dies and the guy marries somebody else and that one also dies but then he keeps seeing the lady with my name. Wishful thinking, that is all; and also, lack of empathy. I can't empathize with whatever pain Joseph must be going through with the break-up, and hey, I don't have to. I already had enough grief of my own.

So, will he think of me? No. He'll be busy mourning the loss of a wife, not of that old silly girlfriend he kicked to the curb years ago. I always felt a little insulted by his lack of mourning, a lack of struggle to get over me, I guess it all comes down to that. "Look, I got sick and bored of you and hey, this girl has just come into my life, she's my equal, this is fantastic, I'm marrying her, bye!". That's all I got, and my ego got severely bruised, as you know very well by now.

Like I said, he'll move on. There'll come more girlfriends, a second wife eventually; a third or fourth. I'll be slowly kicked out of his Top Ten Last Girlfriends in favor of new ones. He forgot about me with Mrs Smith and now she's the one he'll struggle to get over. My claim to fame isn't even that important. I'm sure he built with her much more of a life than he built with me and they have a kid together. She'll be the biggest reference, the highest standard for the new women to come. And there'll be plenty, I'm sure, he has a way with the ladies.

If you put aside my bruised ego, we can talk about this as it is: unimportant. And I think that's the most wonderful thing. It doesn't erase the hurt he caused me in the past, it doesn't affect my wonderful present and it certainly doesn't change my hopes and plans for the future. When I didn't know Joseph was avoiding me because he was already living with her, when I still thought we were on a break like he told me, I said I'd wait for him. "You'll have to wait for a long time", he replied. I stopped waiting as soon as I learned about the marriage and then about the baby. I haven't stopped talking about him but also, I haven't stopped enjoying life.

Yesterday I went to the beach with Andrew and a couple of friends, who are also a couple (my good friend Anita, coworker at the university psych clinic where I volunteer, and Andrew's good friend, Chris). The entire friday and half of saturday was spent by us stuck in a classroom, hearing the thesis progress of our classmates and presenting our own. When we walked out on saturday noon, it was a beautiful day and I joked we could go to the beach. They said ok and a couple of hours later we were on our way there. We had an amazing afternoon and evening by the seashore, eating and laughing and running away from the waves as the sun dissappeared. Andrew asked me to marry him, which isn't new and he knows the answer is yes. What's new is that he asked me while we were watching the sunset, that was a nice touch.

My mom has had her first chemo and is at home resting. My heart aches especially for my dad, who doesn't sleep and eat and is getting all burned out, and spends the nights in anguish, even more so when mom is at the hospital. I think I haven't prayed enough. I don't mean to say things could be bad because of that, I just...usually I'd pray more for her recovery. And yet I keep my faith, in medicine, in everyone's good thoughts and in God. I think I've just become less spiritual, without stopping believing. I must work on that.

Onward! To bed!

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