We park one of cars in front of our house, straddling the curb, two wheels on the extension of the sidewalk, the other two in the street. The other day I found a green 70 Sheets College Ruled 10 1/2 x 8in. 1 Subject Notebook on the windshield. Puzzled, I left it and went out for a walk. I returned a couple of hours later. The notebook was still there. I opened it up and looked for a name. Nothing. Turning the pages, I saw a handwritten script covering the next three pages, the only writing in the notebook. I began reading...
"Lee and I are unsuited to each other. We are totally incompatible. We are just making each other miserable. We will never be able to be content together.
My life will be so much smaller and more circumscribed because of being married to someone with whom I do not share a spiritual orientation, values, and family. We will not travel together.
We will be two cranky old lonely people together.
He wants to push me out of my own house and my own bed. There’s no place that is mine anymore.
I made a huge mistake in marrying him.
I will never find a job that pays me enough money and is sustainable for my health and energy.
I missed the boat—I should have gone to grad school 30 years ago and had children then, too. I should never have put him on the deed to my house.
I will be a 55-year-old divorcee with 2 divorces and no steady job. No one will want me.
The only jobs I can get now are low status low paying jobs. I have wasted my intelligence."