Ex- and Empty

So, it is done.

The waiting is over.

The papers have been signed.

The money has been deposited.

How do I feel?

Empty.

But it's a good kind of empty feeling. I feel like a piece of freshly turned out pottery, awaiting its time to be filled.

And now two interesting linguistic matters have materialized: the use of the pronoun "we" is going to be employed less and the use of the prefix "ex-" is going to become more prevalent. I'm sure that the last thing most recently divorced folks think about is their use of language when it comes to referencing their former and current daily lives. But, as an actor and a writer my thoughts naturally fall to such things.

So now I must ready myself for the next big thing: the rest of my life.

032401 -- 070908

Tomorrow.

Ever since I learned the court date for our divorce hearing, I haven't been able to get these lines from "Hamlet" out of my head:

HORATIO
If your mind dislike any thing, obey it: I will
forestall their repair hither, and say you are not
fit.

HAMLET
Not a whit, we defy augury: there's a special
providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,
'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be
now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the
readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he
leaves, what is't to leave betimes?

Like Hamlet, I thought I was ready to face the end. And, like Hamlet, I find myself in a state of eerie tranquility about my lack of preparation to face the end. Despite all my confident reassurances to family, friends, and myself, I find myself both terrified and relieved by the prospect of tomorrow.

True, I'm not going to die tomorrow. And my feelings for my soon-to-be-ex-wife won't change. But I will feel different by the time the day is over. Change is difficult, isn't it? And sometimes painful.

I want to thank all of you for your support, your love, and your good wishes. I will carry them with me tomorrow and all the days to come.