Bitch Kitty Racing

There are many things in life that take a suspension of disbelief. Movies, bungee jumping, and dating services, to name a few. Then there is the biggest one of all, and also the easiest to overcome: marriage. Marriage is the ultimate declaration of commitment between two people in love in modern America. It is the beginning of a new family, the highest ideal. Your spouse becomes the most important person in your life, even more so the parents or children, and also has the highest legal right to you, as well. And because you’re in love, mental sobriety tests should be administered before taking that vow, because Cupid has a very cruel sense of humor.

To get married means that you look into a person’s eyes and say, “We’re one.” From the moment you make the engagement, this person will always be there, the bedrock of your daily life, more immovable than the Rocky Mountains, more permanent than death. Love may come and go between you two, but the commitment lasts forever. No matter what happens, no matter how mad you are, no matter how much you hate your spouse right now, she’ll always be there.

At least until one of you dies.

Sometimes marriage goes awry. More than just sometimes, actually. Currently one third of all marriages end in divorce, which is still better than the Boomer generation, when one half of all marriages ended in divorce. So one third of all married couples will look at each other one morning and say, “You miserable bitch, you ruined my life!” Okay, perhaps not so vehemently, but you get the idea. The loving couple will seek to dissolve their vows.

This is a problem. In order to get married in the first place, you have to play some serious mental tricks on yourself to suspend disbelief in statistics and cynics. You have to trust your betrothed with your heart and family until you die, and this in a society that won’t talk to strangers, doesn’t accept checks, and x-rays shoes, not to mention offers criminal background checks over the internet for $19.99.

And then to decide one day that your heart, soul, family, and future should not include your spouse? That you would be better off alone? So now you have to undo the knots you tied in your brain to get married in the first place. That trust you felt in God and humanity when you first took her hand as your legal spouse? That’s gone forever. That faith you felt in others when she said, “’Til death do us part?” You’ll never believe anyone again. That sense of never-ending security, of always knowing where home is? Apparently your home is a rented apartment with crappy furniture.

This is why divorce is so violent. It tears up the most basic and essential part of a person. Everything that is good about trust and commitment is embodied in marriage. Everything that is bad about cynicism and bitterness is embodied in divorce. Your childlike suspension of disbelief has been critically wounded by Cupid’s arrow, and lies in the intensive care unit on a respirator.

So to all the daters of divorcees, please keep in mind that you are the emotional equivalent of one who rescues a highly-abused pit bull terrier. This dog will do everything in his power to make you happy out of sheer gratitude, but will never entirely trust you. He will always be en garde against the irrational. His emotional responses will always be more intense than the situation warrants, for better or worse. Neither will you entirely trust him, because you will always know that has already proven that he is capable of inflicting an insane amount of damage to another. You’re dating a potential killer.

Hey, good luck with that!