Leave His Sorry Ass and Heal Your Hurting Heart

Dear Jen,
I'm almost 53 and have spent my entire life married, raising a family and helping my husband have a successful business.  I feel it's my time to enjoy life and do some of the things I'd like to do, yet my husband makes fun of my girlfriends, is a control freak, doesn't respect my opinion, runs the business and spends the money as if it's "his" not "ours."  I've lost a lot of weight and look and feel about 38 or so, and am actually involved with someone that age "for fun." 

We've talked about divorce, but my husband thinks it's too difficult and expensive.  Plus, I feel I've invested too much in our business to divorce him and watch some bimbette come in and reap all the benefits of my hard work.  I've suggested therapy, but he won't go.  We do have sex occasionally, but it's always me begging for it, and then he tells me I'm bad and perverted

I want someone who enjoys what I enjoy, and who is vibrant and alive.  Hence the 38 year old , who, unfortunately, is married too.  Any advice?
- Stuck With a Dud

Dear Dud,
So you're wondering if you should spend the rest of your precious time on this planet disrespected, ridiculed, humiliated, degraded and treated like a filthy whore, just so you can, what, buy cool stuff?  Or cock block some non-existent hottie from molesting your bank account?  I realize it's not that simple, but you know what?  At the same time, it kind of is.

Some smart person once said, "being spiteful is like drinking poison and waiting for your enemies to die."  Even if you left him, rented a cheapo apartment, traded dining out for dining in, stopped waxing, started shaving and got rear-ended by his bimbette in her brandy new Mercedes, you'd still be in a better spot.  Because you'd be living life for yourself, not in spite of him.   Makes a big diffy.  Helps keep away things like The Cancer, too.

Get yourself a divorce lawyer, a really really good and scary one, and fight for what's rightfully yours.  Who cares what your husband thinks?  He's not the boss of you.  People get divorced all the time.  People with lots more money and children and complications, as well as those with a lot fewer options - you clearly know how to run a successful business.  Why not cut your losses and start your own?  Or tell other people how to start theirs?

You're foxy, smart, and have no problem getting young men to crawl up your skirt - why oh why would you want to waste all that by rotting alongside your blob of a husband until death do you part?

Dear Jen,
How do you get over a broken heart?  About four months ago, my boyfriend of over six years and I called it quits.  While it was somewhat mutual, I can't say it was what I really wanted. 

I'm generally OK unless he's "around."  A phone call or e-mail gets me upset, and a recent visit has had me crying for days.  I know we can't try to fix things.  Still, I'm having a hard time moving on.  I have a new job, great friends and have been dating (and having sex) like crazy.  Yet none of it gets this man out of my mind.  I miss him all the time, and worry I still love him.  Please tell me it gets better.
-Still Hurting

Dear Hurting,
I was heating up some leftover lasagna the other day, put it in the microwave for a minute or so, and it was still cold, so I punched in another minute and Jesus Christ it still wasn't hot enough, and I had to wait a whole fifty-five seconds more before it finally got it together and some cheese started melting around here.  It's an old microwave, and I swore right then and there that I was going to get a new one because this was ridiculous. 

But then, people, we all know who the ridiculous one really is, now don't we?

It's so easy to lose perspective in this jiffy lubed world of ours, where if the stupid page doesn't download in less than ten seconds, we log off in a huff.  You were with this guy for six years, and now, a mere four months into your break-up, you're wondering when the torture will stop?  Oh dear - look what we've done to ourselves.

Here's the thing.  Regardless of how speedy speed dial gets, the body remains unaffected.  And unimpressed.  It will always take nine months to make a baby, years to recover from emotional trauma and a near lifetime to grow out a bad haircut. 

If you say you're OK unless he contacts you then....tell him to stop contacting you.  This whole "let's still be friends" trip is a giant, steaming, fly-ridden pile of wishful thinking.  All it does is pick at the already slow-healing scab, and prolong your pain.  Erase him from your cellphone, delete him from your Myspace page, keep on fuckin' and someday, when your heart is done lollygagging its way down Woe Is Me Road, you'll feel better.  I promise.