“Yep,” she said, “I’ve got other people I can talk to. Other friends. Lots of people who want to hear my story.”

“Um, I just asked for a pause on the soon-to-be-ex. That’s okay, right?”

“Sure. Right. Have a good day.”

“I guess I’ll get back to work.”

And she’s disconnected. The first disconnection happened when I asked her to contain a bit of her expulsion of her interactions with her soon-to-be-ex about reimbursement for vision care. $100.

“Yes, it’s a hundred dollars. Is it worth two days of emails with the man who ‘left you?’”

It’s not worth it. For the man who’s attempting to reach you it is causing us ongoing disconnections. A little request for moderation becomes an issue. It should not be an issue to ask you to limit your bitching about your husband.

It’s an issue when you can’t talk about anything else. When 80% of our phone conversations are you discharging your anger and frustration at your asshole.

I am not the asshole. Yet, I’m taking his *bs*.

I don’t want to onboard your anger, pain, and continual suffering over minor details of your divorce in progress. It’s not how I want to start my day. It’s your morass. Your morning of strife and navigation of shark-infested waters. I’ll watch from the shore, thanks.

Hit me up when March is over.

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