Dear Carlton

Dear Carlton

I know we have been married a long time, it feels like 150 years, and lately I have been trying to tell you how I feel. I’m not happy, Carlton, and I haven’t been for a long time.

Since the kids grew up and left home, you have invited a series of boarders to stay with us, all nice enough boys, but free-loaders. It is nice for you to have the company, but it is just more work for me.

Also, you do not seem to care for me any more. A small amount of affection every now and then would make such a difference to our relationship. I can only dream of passion like the old days.

I know my job doesn’t bring in as much money as yours used to, but I work hard, and I am sick of wasting all our money on those thankless boys. I get home from work and there is always one of them lolling on the couch playing bloody PS, another one complaining that he can’t find his footy gear, and the place is a pigsty. Would it kill you to ask them to vacuum or tidy?

The final straw was Sunday night. As you know, Carlton, Sunday is my only day off, and it started off all right with our drive to Marysville, but you ruined it when we got home. If you don’t know how to care for me after all these years, I cannot face the future with any confidence. Embarrassing me in front of the neighbours like you did on Sunday night was the final straw. You know I don’t even like Mark next door, so that made it even worse.

We have a lot of shared history, Carlton, and it will be difficult for us to live apart. I accept some of the responsibility for the breakdown in our relationsip. I should have been stronger years ago, after you went broke and I worked two jobs to save the house. But I loved you and believed you when you told me how you were going to turn things around. More fool me, I didn’t realise you couldn’t face the truth. You were never going to get rich again, were you? They changed the laws and you didn’t change with them.

So Carlton, I am going to have some time apart from you. My best friend and I have been planning a holiday for years, and the time is right to go now. I will go to the family barbeque with you on Sunday, but that is the last time I will be with you for a month or two. I need this break, and I hope that when I am gone, you will sort yourself out. If things are the same when I return, then I’m sorry but you leave me no choice; it’s divorce.

P.S. and get rid of those bloody lazy boys!

Comments

  1. Neil Anderson says

    I almost divorced my Bulldogs at the end of 2012. Almost I say. I couldn’t see a future although there were a lot of kids involved for custody purposes. Some had left the nest years ago and took up art and music which suited them better, particularly with the current policy of no scoreboards to worry about and no token medals just for competing.
    Then I put my faith in a wise counselor by the name of Father Brendan McCartney who taught me to be even more patient than I already was and he assured me my shaky relationship would survive.
    I am happy to report that twelve months later my marriage is as strong as ever. If the situation changes and it could as early as next week, I will return to the confessional before I react

  2. The Wrap. says

    Marriage break up is a fact of life Barb. Sometimes the relationship can be saved. Sometimes a trial separation saves it. Sometimes you just have to let go and get on with the rest of your life.

    The goings on at Royal Parade have been a talking point around the neighbourhood for years. To be honest, we don’t know how you’ve stuck it out for so long. The wild adventures, the sworn pledges, the broken promises, the heart break and the beatings.

    You’re doing the right thing Lass. You’ll feel better about it once you let go totally. The kids will understand and he might even give up his carousing & philandering. We’ll all lend you a shoulder to cry on. Life goes on, and you’re still a young and, might I be so bold as to say it, an attractive woman. Join a whole gang of Battered Wives down to Punt Road one Saturday arvo. You’ll get plenty of sympathy, let me tell you.

  3. I thought this was a (semi) serious sporting website, but its starting to resemble Heartbalm in the old Truth formguide (couldn’t call it a newspaper).
    I’d be steering clear of those desperate and dateless RSVP websites that advertise on late night TV, for a while. Full of bluebaggers on the rebound.
    Fatal Attraction II?
    I could see Barb turning up at Mick’s house asking for rabbit stew.

  4. I hate to say it Barb, but the signs were there early. If you’re going to commit yourself to a relationship with Carlton, or anyone else, you can’t be certain of the future, both short and long term. It sounds to me you are more suited to St. Kilda who offer eternal hope in a consistent manner, not false promises of the Carlton kind. The reliance on favoured sons to lead them out of the wilderness is turning from a 5 year plan to 20. Taking into account the foreseeable ten years belonging to the Giants and the Suns, probably in alternating seasons. There’s nothing wrong with favouring a younger team with your attentions and lots of upside, (apart from fashion sense).

  5. Barb Smith says

    Yes fellas, love is blind. I had hoped Carlton has learned his lesson after the 2002 affair, but that was just a smoke screen.
    I am facing up to the fact that my true love has been deceiving me for years, and I will join the nunnery before I hook up with another man.
    Devastated but not stupid.

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