Age when married: 23
Age when divorced: 31
We first met at a meeting. I noticed his hair and his big head mostly because it was blocking my view of the flipboard. I didn’t say anything to him at the meeting, but he briefly made some rude comments to a flyer I made for a Mexican American student group. I forgot what he said, but I remember how he made me feel, which was uncomfortable.
The next time I saw him again was at the church, when he woke me up, after I fell asleep during mass. Angelo (who was the founder of MASA) and him invited me to lunch where I got to talk with them, and get to know them a lot better. In the end, he invited me to hang out the next day.
Over the years, we bonded over our shared activism and pseudo radicalism. We ended up getting married almost three years after we met at City Hall. I wore a sleeveless dress, which he crudely commented made me look like Meg from Family Guy. I married him partly to help him out with his immigration paperwork, and to leave my very traditional home. He didn’t have a steady job, and for some reason, I had some strange illusions that everything will turn out alright.
We lived in love for a while, but then were doomed for various reasons some still unbeknownst to me. There were obvious issues: money issues, me being indecisive, and him having some inferiority complexes, which helped destroy the relationship. But it was really the actions we both took that led to the end.
I can be annoying. Indecisive. Cruel. Fickle. Judgmental. But I was fair and loyal. I subdued my own interest to accommodate his, which were insufficient. To me, I relented to easily.
I decided to leave. He confirmed some news about his infidelities, which I was blindsided about. I had forgiven him once for finding out one day a couple weeks after graduation via texts I found. I managed to live a couple more months with him, before I realized that I no longer could keep the facade that we could build together.