On October 9th 2020, my wife and I went out on a date she set up. It was a pleasant fall day, sweater weather. We went to a Mediterranean restaurant near Seodaemun and she ordered some of my favorite dishes. Not particularly stuff my wife liked but she was aiming to please me that day. Throughout the meal, my wife couldn’t help herself, at every turn in our conversation, she steered us toward her go-to topics; the list of reasons why she hates me. However, since this was kind of a special occasion, instead of insulting me with a screeching venomous tone, on this day she was calling me a retarded loser with a smile on her face and sugary sing song voice.

What was the special occasion? Well my wife wanted to use this date to ask me to empty my retirement accounts and give her all my life’s savings. She needed my funds to pay her Korean taxes. You see, this particular year, she had an extra large tax bill because she recently received a huge inheritance. You see, her net worth doubled, maybe more like tripled when her brother committed suicide. It was mostly real estate she got. Understandably, my wife didn’t want to liquidate any her old or newly acquired properties in order to pay the inheritance tax. Especially, if she knew I had enough to cover her and I had never said no to her in the past, with money, or anything else, really.

So as my wife insulted me, I shoveled hummus down my throat and washed it down with saffron tea. Didn’t bother to chew. Didn’t bother to wipe my chin. Nothing tasted good anymore if I was eating with her so why bother pretending to savor the meal. I paid the bill and told my wife I was taking a taxi home. Told her I had a migraine headache and wanted to lay down. She begged me to finish the date course she had planned. She wanted us to hike together. I love hiking. She doesn’t like hiking.

In front of the restaurant, my wife asked me if I was going to give her all my money. I said no. Her smile melted away. I walked a few steps away from her, toward the street so I could hail a taxi. My wife ran a few steps and grabbed me. This little lady pulling on my arms. Clinging onto my clothes. The nice day, all the Koreans out and about, pretending to not be staring at this scene. My wife begged me to hike with her. Reconsider everything. Change my mind and give her all my money. I said no thanks to the hike. I kept walking. My steps were slow motion, like I was trying to move against a violent strong river current.

At the road side, my wife was trying to pull my hand down so I couldn’t wave down a taxi. My wife was grabbing at my pockets too, trying to take my wallet and phone. I was switching back and forth between attempts to wave down a taxi and using my hands to block her grubby hands from getting into my pockets. So absurd.

A taxi pulled up slow, hoping I was a customer.

My wife looked shocked when I wiggled out of her grapple holds and got in the taxi. I don’t know what her facial expression was when the taxi pulled away and left her there on the curb because I didn’t look back.

After the taxi dropped me off at home, I changed into my running gear and did a good 10 plus kilometer jog next to the Han. I digested my migraine headache with each deep resolute breath.

When I got home from my run, I checked my phone and saw over fifty new kakaotalks. All from my wife. Pictures of her hiking, laced with sharp messages. “You see what you missed.” “This is me going up the trail.” “You ruined a perfect day.” “Look at the clouds, no smog today.” “You don’t care about me.” “You don’t love me anymore.” “You never cared about me.” “You never loved me.” “You’re an evil selfish person.” “I want to open our problems to a third person to see what you’ve done to me.”

I didn’t respond to her messages. I turned off my phone, got out my journal, left the house, and went to the empty US military base where I had a few secret hideouts where the vampires couldn’t find me.

This day, I went to the gazebo by the AAFES gas station, up on the hilI. Sat on the bench behind the grass and weeds that hadn’t been cut in a year or so. I got out my journal and wrote down the events of the day. I read old entries from similar days. I re-did some of the analysis of my marriage dynamics. This day was just another one of those episodes. Same pattern. She tries to convince me I’m worthless. She tries to convince me I owe her something big. You know, because she is so generous to put up with my worthless loser retard ass. She makes some outrageous demand. If I show resistance, reluctance, God forbid, if I say no to her demand, then she makes it an issue of love. She makes it an issue about my core human kindness. She threatens to tell everyone my deepest character flaws. Everyone will see she is correct, righteous, when she punishes me for letting her down.

I sat there on the hill, sat aside my journal. I turned my phone turned back on but kept it on airplane mode. I used the Insight Timer app set for an untimed, unlimited meditation session.

Hours later, after the sun went down, it got too cold for me to concentrate on my breath. And my thoughts weren’t racing anymore. And I felt like, yeah, my mind, spirit, heart, and body, they’re in line with my decision.

No divorce. I don’t want a divorce. Fuck that shit. We’ve got kids together. There’s no such thing as divorce once you have kids. Nope, I’ll ride this out. Besides, this woman and I loved each other so deeply once. We had like 10 years of pure bliss. Nope, no divorce. I’ll just continue on the path that this woman and I agreed would be best for our family, for me. I’ll keep studying. Become a physical therapist. Go back into the active duty Army as an officer. I’ll go wherever they send me. I’ll be a workaholic and maximize my career success. I’ll live like a spartan warrior and she can have my money. I’ll deploy as much as possible. We’ll live separate until I get my second retirement. We’ll vacation together. She’ll come and setup my houses each time the military moves me. We’ll be old by the time my second career is over. She’ll be less abusive then. She’ll settle down by then.

I started walking home. I turned off airplane mode. My phone blew up with new kakaotalk messages. I turned off notifications. I didn’t open kakaotalk. As I walked, I scrolled through the MLB app and studied box scores.

How many home runs does Miguel Cabrera need for 500? What pace does he need to be on to get there this season? Okay, what would his OPS look like if he gets on that pace? Shit, that’s not possible. Well, A Rod had that late career resurgence. Nah, he has a completely different body type. He probably juiced again to get that year. Do you think Miggy ever juiced? I kinda figure, every player is taking something. Too much incentive to not juice. Too easy to get away with it. I’d juice. Who could blame them? Plus, isn’t baseball more fun when the guys are fucking jacked? And what really is the big difference between some of these supplements they’re allowed to take and the stuff they’re not allowed to take? Maybe I should juice. Nah, that shit would make my life even worse. Probably make me even younger and more vibrant. My wife is already 16 years older than me. And all those years of not taking care of herself are really catching up to her now. Maybe that’s why she hates me. I remind her of how old she is getting. Fuck, those pills and injections would probably make me erect all the time. Horny as a fucking goat. No good there either. Me and the misses already don’t have sex. What the fuck would I do with all those extra boners when my current boner supply isn’t doing anything but causing me grief.

Fuck my life.

They know about my problems. They know about my childhood. And they still want to use me inside another mission? The key word is use. Until I'm not useful anymore. Then they can discard me and say I was just another crazy. Just another guy pushed over the edge by toxic relationships. Not if I quit first. Not if I leave first. I don't care if I have to live in a van down by the river. This shit can't continue for much longer.