“I saw her today at the reception…”
— The Rolling Stones, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want“

I walked to the bank today after work (I was walking home after that) to deposit my check but the darn thing blew out of my pocket into the wind, unbeknownst to me. Halfway there I realized I didn’t have it and backtracked a quarter of the way back to work, to find it in the grass near the road. This added a couple minutes, maybe two, to the whole trip. It turns out that was enough to challenge fate.

Finished with my transaction, as I put my headphones back on and walked away from the bank, my ex-wife pulled up in her car with her daughter. They didn’t see me. My heart began to pound and I was filled with joy at seeing the two of them again, as if they were ghosts. And they pretty much were — I had only seen my wife briefly once since they left; never the daughter. (I’ve spoken before how I feel that it was all so sudden that it has been as if they were killed).

I wanted to go up and talk to them, tell them how I don’t know how to live without them – beg them to come back – but I knew it would make the ex mad. She never liked being cornered into situations she wasn’t in control of, and everything had been going so smoothly in the divorce that I didn’t want to spoil that trend.

So I walked away. I looked back a couple times — I couldn’t tell if they saw me or not. It didn’t look like it, because she walked into the bank, leaving her daughter in the car. I could have run back to say something to her, but I didn’t. I had never wanted to do anything more in my life, but my continued love and respect for my ex-wife stopped me. I just kept walking.

Tonight I decided to use this “missed connection” as a bargaining chip. (I’ve recently become fascinated by the “missed connection” section of Craigslist, where people post pleads for a stranger to contact them, who they may have interacted briefly with on the street. At this point I feel we are complete strangers).

My wife had demanded the digital photos that I had of the two of them — one of the few things she couldn’t retrieve from the house by herself. As I had already warned my readers I was planning on making a last-ditch hail-mary-pass effort to make sure, be 100 percent sure, that there was no way we could be a family again. I had already practiced my lines, relying heavily on the length of our marriage and the good times we had (which were proven by these photos I still possess). I texted her to tell her the story above, and to say that I’ll give her the photos, but she has to meet me in person. I have things to say, and I deserve closure in order to move on.

She didn’t reply immediately, but later she replied with enough closure that I am now 100% sure there is no way this relationship can be saved, and I am finally ready to move on.