My Marriage is Almost Over, and It's All My Fault

by Amarillo da Vaca

I put the photo back on top of the T.V., and think about Friday -- marriage counseling day.

It'll be our second visit to the free Christian counselor, and I already know where this is headed.

I used to believe that we controlled our destinies, but I was wrong. We are all marionettes on the strings of life, controlled by the unseen hand of the puppeteer, who mocks us with his subtle machinations and gimmickry.

The puppeteer was subtle, to be sure. I had to work extra hours -- so I was unable to help with the baby. My wife moved in with her sister "until Gloria gets older".

Next thing I knew, I was paying child support and being told that, "I can't love you and Gloria both."

Something inside me said to "put my foot down". So I laid down some rules. I believed this would show my wife that I didn't really care -- that I was a typical, callous, uncaring guy. I thought that was what she wanted -- a brute, a scumbag, a tough guy.

Wrong. All I did was give her more excuse to file the divorce papers faster.

I backtracked, but it was too late. Sure, we're seeing a counselor, and yeah, she's been crying a lot -- but we all know how this is going to end; like in the movie Anastasia: "In tears."

I did my best, but it wasn't good enough. The puppeteer who mocks me with his uncaring hand has been displeased with my attempts to free myself from the strings, and tortures me more for my attempts.

My fate is sealed.