The Plea Answered

Dear Legs,

First, please forgive me for not responding sooner.  I was very moved by your letter, and fully intended to write you back that day.  But, as you know, life got in the way.  I’m sorry for that.

Skipping the weather chit-chat (face already reminds me daily that it has been sunny), I will get right to it.  Regarding why I am making you work so hard these days, I think I know.  You asked about the reason that I made you work so hard of late.  You asked if I was running from “responsibility” or “failure”.  With certainty I can tell you “No”.

I do think that I have discovered the reason that I am putting you through this situation, however.  Do you remember doing the mediation before the divorce?  There was a lot of talk about money and how much I had to pay her.  Do you remember the part about how each tax season we’d review our incomes to see if the “Memorandum of Understanding” needed to be adjusted based on how much money she and I were making?  I actually feel a bit silly admitting this, silly because I’m sure I can just ask a friend what the real answer is, but if I remember right, the rules to the divorce included that if I became a millionaire, I would have to pay her more than I already do.  Well, here’s the thing.  I don’t want to pay her more.  So it’s shit jobs with shittier salaries for now.

It probably doesn’t make sense to you two, my friends, but I think for these next couple of years I’d rather risk ruining our relationship–yours and mine–than hear another man order me to pay her more money.

I know you’re tired.  Believe me when I say I am more than aware that I am the reason you both feel and are tired.  I am sorry about that.  On the bright side, we’ve made it through one year, and that means only a few more years until this burden is lifted.  And you know how time flies.  Maybe I’ll even call up my lawyer friend and find out that I’m wrong about the situation.

In any case, thank you for not giving up on me.  I will owe you both a lot when all this has passed.

Thoughtfully Yours,

Brain

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