separation

janet let her hands fall to her side. "that's fine," she relented. "we'll do it your way." there was a moment of stunned silence before hal could reply. he hadn't expected her capitulation; he had expected a fight. he had readied a dozen defenses. but she did not attack. she did not accuse. she didn't even question.

hal started to state his finest arguments, unable to let go after the hours of thought and anxiety he had sweated into them. "hal, shut up," she said tiredly. "i am not interested in this bullshit." she turned to go into the house. "have someone send me something to sign. i'd rather not see you again." with that, she closed the door to the house they'd shared for thirty years. she didn't bother to lock it.

deflated, hal looked around to see if any neighbors were watching. the discussion had begun in the car -- not exactly what hal had intended, but sometimes things take on a life of their own. it began as a familiar enough argument: hal was backing out of a social obligation, leaving janet to go alone, again. by the time they'd pulled into the driveway hal had said he wanted a divorce.

janet hadn't seen it coming. their argument grooves were so deeply worn she had just been falling forward in them, pulled by the gravity she could take for granted. when hal said "divorce", she actually had to replay the last few moments of their conversation, which she hadn't been listening to because she'd been thinking about making dinner and a meeting at work and a thank-you she'd forgotten to mail. what had she just said? oh, yeah: this is getting old, hal. maybe i should just find someone else to go with.

she'd said it a hundred times.