I was married for almost 15 years.
When I first met my ex-wife it was through America Online, and there was more than just the two of us on there, so you can guess how long ago that was.
I remember meeting her in real life the first time after corresponding via AOL messages, and remember myself thinking how cute.
I was a good looking lad with an accent, still playing the field a little, but had decided it was time to settle down and build a family.
My ex played a good game of cat and mouse, we liked each other, hated each other, then loved each other. It wasn’t a match made in heaven, but I was in love.
Then I got ‘caught’ going across state lines without proof of US residency. Well I wasn’t. And a California driving license and white lie story couldn’t convince the border guards that I was legit.
With my ex not knowing my legal status (I was in the country legally, but not authorized to work – which I was), I called an old girlfriend who drove a few hundred miles to get my passport with my visitors visa, and then drove another few hundred miles to where I was incarcerated, an immigration holding prison in Western Arizona.
I basically disappeared for 4 days while this all got sorted out, got sent on my way with an admonishment and no apology.
When the story surfaced, my ex and I had the discussion (after her surprise), and *collectively* decided that we would get married;
- Because we loved each other
- Because we were both in our mid 30’s and “it was time”
- Because I wouldn’t be kicked out of the country
- And it would be quick, so there would be not other issues
At that point, we have been going out on and off for about 9 months.
I had met her folks, had a good job, loved her and was *very* ready to settle down.
With all honesty, her folks had a couple of bucks and were supporting her. My good job was paying less than her rich lifestyle cost at the time, but she felt confident specifically her dad would continue to support us while I improved my financial status.
As I recall, it was a pretty unanimous decision to marry quickly, with her pushing the point as much as I agreed to it.
We were in love. We were looking forward to starting a family. And a number of times she gave me the ultimatum that “I’m not wasting my time, either this is serious or we break up.” And I was serious.
Fast forward to the ‘troubled years’ and even to today, I am consistently reminded, in front of my kids, and to anyone else that will listen to her ranting, that “I only married her for a green card.”
<sigh>
