43
It is in Western Europe that a man, after infidelity and divorce, is left in his pants, everything is different.
We do not live in the Middle Ages, so when man cheats on woman A woman has a reason to do whatever she sees fit. Quietly leave, divorce, even in court can sue. Well, really, so much time and nerve wasted on relationships, on marriage. And here, on you. Where does that fit?
By the way, in the States or Western Europe, this issue has long been settled. And the man after the divorce remains, literally, in his pants. All property is divided in half, and the wife, for no reason, can be awarded alimony paid by the husband. In Italy, for example, there are even special hostels only for divorced men. Maybe it's worth thinking about.
Sitting abroad, away from home, you do not even want to write about something personal. To be honest, I want to focus on how to live, what to do. I have been in Austria for two years and I am very happy to have so many friends here. After all, after the beginning of a full-scale invasion, being at home became simply dangerous. So I decided to move.
But I’m not going to hide the whole truth either. The thing is, it was during this very period that my husband cheated on me after 12 years together. Cheated and left home. Leaving me with my nine-year-old daughter. He, of course, swore to me that after the divorce he would pay alimony and in no case would leave us without means of subsistence. But I could not verify his words for obvious reasons.
Peels Alla and I are now here, safe and surrounded by good people. We live with a nice family. They gave us a seat in the other wing of the house, and since then they have not made any complaints to us. For which, of course, I am very grateful.
Speaking of our lives. We were not settled in a big city, but rather a small picturesque village. Although there is both infrastructure and clean air. There are cars, restaurants and hotels. But all houses are private, in a classical style. And people, I think, are easier than in the usual bustle of the city.
In order not to seem ungrateful, I was the first to volunteer to help the couple who took us in with my daughter. Nothing special, gardening. I'm an urban person, but I've been to the village a couple of times. And I know well what it is to harvest crops, dig potatoes, spray plants from parasites. Working with the land is never easy.
But the European approach surprised me a lot. Although there was a lot of fruit on the trees, no one ran to collect them all. No, quite the opposite. Our work together was more like a picnic outside the city. We covered a small piece of cloth under a tree and shook all the fruit we could. Then they chose the best and packed them in baskets or buckets. The rest is in the humus.
After a while we had lunch, right there. Fresh bread, homemade food. It's slow, slow. I’m afraid to imagine how much such a snack would cost in my city, considering that even butter is on the table of Austrians own production. It's health, not food.
Peels But let's get back to my problem. The fact is that my city has become relatively safe again. And my little brother stayed in it. He was always sick and, to be honest, he was always on pills. The doctors would write him prescriptions in packs, and I even thought for a while that this was their strategy, to milk more money from the patient.
But, no. During the time that I was abroad, Kolya lost a lot of weight and almost all the time lay in bed. Dad came to see him from time to time. Bringing meds, groceries, and little things. But, you know, this is not a cure, but just a temporary fight against the disease. We all knew this, but we tried not to bring it up again. Why?
Anyway, I wanted to come over for a few days to see my brother. Well, say goodbye if you need to. Because who knows how serious this is. Not responding was not in my habit. This is a native person who at one time gave his health for the sake of bad habits and personal preferences. But how can I judge him?!
When I finally decided that I would come, gave my father the date of arrival, he told me one news. It was about my ex-husband, the real one. Misha broke up with the woman she left for more than a year ago. He came to my dad several times and asked about me. His father, of course, sent him away. But Misha did not give up trying and came again and again.
And as evil as it was, Alla heard our conversation. She's a little girl, but I would never call her stupid. When she heard about my father, she started asking me when he would come or when we would come to see him. She even burst into tears at the end, saying she misses her father and wants to see him. I tried to calm her down, but all my efforts were in vain.
It is good that the child's mind is very inquisitive and literally clings to any topic that interests him. Gradually, I was able to distract Alla from the topic of the pope, but she is still under the influence of her husband. And it has to be solved somehow. How? My trip home is almost three days away. I'm going to visit my brother and see my dad. Okay.
But Misha, according to his father, asked so much about me, and Alla missed him so much that I don’t even know. Why don't we call him at home, meet him for 10 minutes, see what he's like now? We are not strangers, we would see each other sooner or later. He's also my daughter's father. And I'm not talking about renewing a relationship, of course not. But see you. There's nothing wrong with that, right?
By the way, in the States or Western Europe, this issue has long been settled. And the man after the divorce remains, literally, in his pants. All property is divided in half, and the wife, for no reason, can be awarded alimony paid by the husband. In Italy, for example, there are even special hostels only for divorced men. Maybe it's worth thinking about.
Sitting abroad, away from home, you do not even want to write about something personal. To be honest, I want to focus on how to live, what to do. I have been in Austria for two years and I am very happy to have so many friends here. After all, after the beginning of a full-scale invasion, being at home became simply dangerous. So I decided to move.
But I’m not going to hide the whole truth either. The thing is, it was during this very period that my husband cheated on me after 12 years together. Cheated and left home. Leaving me with my nine-year-old daughter. He, of course, swore to me that after the divorce he would pay alimony and in no case would leave us without means of subsistence. But I could not verify his words for obvious reasons.
Peels Alla and I are now here, safe and surrounded by good people. We live with a nice family. They gave us a seat in the other wing of the house, and since then they have not made any complaints to us. For which, of course, I am very grateful.
Speaking of our lives. We were not settled in a big city, but rather a small picturesque village. Although there is both infrastructure and clean air. There are cars, restaurants and hotels. But all houses are private, in a classical style. And people, I think, are easier than in the usual bustle of the city.
In order not to seem ungrateful, I was the first to volunteer to help the couple who took us in with my daughter. Nothing special, gardening. I'm an urban person, but I've been to the village a couple of times. And I know well what it is to harvest crops, dig potatoes, spray plants from parasites. Working with the land is never easy.
But the European approach surprised me a lot. Although there was a lot of fruit on the trees, no one ran to collect them all. No, quite the opposite. Our work together was more like a picnic outside the city. We covered a small piece of cloth under a tree and shook all the fruit we could. Then they chose the best and packed them in baskets or buckets. The rest is in the humus.
After a while we had lunch, right there. Fresh bread, homemade food. It's slow, slow. I’m afraid to imagine how much such a snack would cost in my city, considering that even butter is on the table of Austrians own production. It's health, not food.
Peels But let's get back to my problem. The fact is that my city has become relatively safe again. And my little brother stayed in it. He was always sick and, to be honest, he was always on pills. The doctors would write him prescriptions in packs, and I even thought for a while that this was their strategy, to milk more money from the patient.
But, no. During the time that I was abroad, Kolya lost a lot of weight and almost all the time lay in bed. Dad came to see him from time to time. Bringing meds, groceries, and little things. But, you know, this is not a cure, but just a temporary fight against the disease. We all knew this, but we tried not to bring it up again. Why?
Anyway, I wanted to come over for a few days to see my brother. Well, say goodbye if you need to. Because who knows how serious this is. Not responding was not in my habit. This is a native person who at one time gave his health for the sake of bad habits and personal preferences. But how can I judge him?!
When I finally decided that I would come, gave my father the date of arrival, he told me one news. It was about my ex-husband, the real one. Misha broke up with the woman she left for more than a year ago. He came to my dad several times and asked about me. His father, of course, sent him away. But Misha did not give up trying and came again and again.
And as evil as it was, Alla heard our conversation. She's a little girl, but I would never call her stupid. When she heard about my father, she started asking me when he would come or when we would come to see him. She even burst into tears at the end, saying she misses her father and wants to see him. I tried to calm her down, but all my efforts were in vain.
It is good that the child's mind is very inquisitive and literally clings to any topic that interests him. Gradually, I was able to distract Alla from the topic of the pope, but she is still under the influence of her husband. And it has to be solved somehow. How? My trip home is almost three days away. I'm going to visit my brother and see my dad. Okay.
But Misha, according to his father, asked so much about me, and Alla missed him so much that I don’t even know. Why don't we call him at home, meet him for 10 minutes, see what he's like now? We are not strangers, we would see each other sooner or later. He's also my daughter's father. And I'm not talking about renewing a relationship, of course not. But see you. There's nothing wrong with that, right?
Put her on the doorstep, little thing for big money opens the door.
Brother and sister frantically quarreled over the apartment, the cries of adult children woke the old woman