Jake had a thing about giving me jewelry. In his head, this is What Husbands Did. If one had a Wife, one got her Nice Things.

No matter that the wife in questions said, "I don't really like jewelry." No matter that she said, "I don't like to wear jewelry." No matter that she said, "At the very least, please don't ever get me anything gold."

"Happy anniversary," he'd say. "I know you don't like gold. I know you never wear jewelry. But I got this for you anyway."

So, I have this jewelry box, and it's filled with things. Gold things, mostly. Expensive things. Things I never wear. Things I didn't want in the first place. Things I have no use for.

And yet — two years later — I still have them.

Why? Is it because dealing with the process of appraisal and sale will take some effort? Is it because just the idea of yet another errand dealing with this divorce exhausts me?

Or is it that the idea of losing those presents is hard? Because — even though they speak so much to Jake's lack of understanding of me, lack of interest in what I liked and cared about — they were still given out of love.

So much pain is left when a marriage ends that it's hard to look back at what was good and happy without those memories being tainted, somehow, by all the hurt.

This could be grad school tuition, here in this box. This could be a vacation, or a couple of the cross-country plane tickets I'm burning through these days.

What will it take to open it up and take some action?

I may have doubts about my marriage, or the relevance of the institution for me, but I do not doubt its importance to countless millions. I've not yet discussed here that I'm an active supporter of same-sex marriage rights.

My community of friends considers it one of the major civil rights issues of our times. My sister is devoting her career to the protection of same-sex marriage in Massachusetts, and in Rob's and my circle of close friends we have two sets of married women, one of which is raising an adopted daughter.

Sickeningly, thirty-seven states define marriage in such a way to prohibit the marriage of same-sex couples. Vermont reversed this trend when in 2000 it enacted civil union legislation for gay and lesbian couples and rejected constitutional amendments limiting marriage.

California followed through on comprehensive domestic partner legislation in 2003, the same year in which Massachusetts legalized gay marriage when its courts ruled it would be discriminatory to not allow same-sex couples to marry. California has now joined Massachusetts in allowing full marriage rights, and Connecticut's Supreme Court ruled in favor of same-sex marriage just last week.

But as with the hetero population, some marriages will end in divorce (same-sex marriage has been legal for such a short time, divorce rates have not yet been established). In Massachusetts, Gay and Lesbian Advocates and Defenders (GLAD), the same organization that fought to gain marriage for all, must now help couples divorce.

Debra Messing and Debra Nigro. Isn't it fun when someone has your same name and spells it the same way, too?

Debra Messing will be 'posing' as a divorced wife in the new weekly TV series The Starter Wife. I, on the other hand, will continue posing as myself — the real life divorcee.

If Messing were a real divorcee, she'd have known better than to put her show on Friday nights. Divorcees want to go out on Friday nights and mess around, or something like that.

Friday nights pose a dilemma for divorced women everywhere. Somehow you just feel you are "supposed" to go out.

Friday nights have always seemed like the night all the other singles are out — somewhere. Saturday is still "hypothetically" date night. So given a choice, divorced women will pick Friday as their night out on the town.

Therefore, I assume, in doing their research about when to air The Starter Wife, they must not have had a lot of divorcees in on the decision.

Maybe I should call the producer and at the very least have Debra Messing's character on the series, Molly, join Firstwivesworld.com. This way we can be assured her character will make wiser decisions going forward.

I'm single, I'm writing this on Friday, I am awake, it's a beautiful night and my jeans aren't choking me to death...so forgive me, I'm going out to mess around somewhere. Debra Messing — I love you, but I will see you on Tivo.

Then we can compare notes to see who had more fun!

Until then...I will rely on the First Wives World Social Network "Starter Wife Group" — who did not find qualified babysitters — to keep me updated.

The other day I received an email from an old friend whose been reading my FWW posts. We were college pals who hadn't been in touch at all in the 15 years since I graduated from Ohio State and pull up stakes from Columbus, until I found her via the all-powerful Internet.

Most of what she's knows about my life today is what she reads here.

She said a couple things about a recent post that I've been thinking on since.

First, she's never known anyone doing what I'm doing, returning to a marriage I left two years ago. Also, she said I seem ambivalent about it.

Funny how when you get a new car, you suddenly see them everywhere. I know a few other people who've been down this road. My eyes are keen to these situations these days. I have a couple of friends who were in and out of their marriages for shorter periods and another who was separated for two years, just like me.

She also wanted to know if I was in it for good now. Two years ago I would have said "No way." Actually, I would have said it was still "open ended," but what I way thinking was, "No. No. No going back."

Then time comes along and does it's thing, and here I am. It ain't easy, that's for sure. But I take it the same way I'm learning to take everything these days, as it comes and with a good bit of openness.

With remembering how suicidally bleak it felt to be hopeless in that marriage with no obvious way out. Heavy in my body. Shipwrecked.

That's the ambivalence. I know where I've been. The truth is, had we not been bound together by kids, I would have left without looking back. And yet, I did not reconcile "for the kids."

The last time I wrote, I was trying to be brave. But I was really scared that I might not find a new home for myself and my six pets. To keep from panicking, I reminded myself that even though I had just three days to find a place to rent, I only needed one place.

Just one house with one fenced yard. Just one landlord amenable to six pets.

On the second morning of my search, I set out to see a house. My map indicated I could go south, then east to a major road that would lead to my destination, or so I thought. Turned out that while the roads cross on the map, one is an overpass, and I ended up on an interstate highway headed out of town.

Annoyed, I exited at the first familiar road. As I was finding my way back, I spotted a "For Rent" sign, and turned to see what was available.

It was . . . shall we call it a cottage? A very modest house with a fenced yard. The neighborhood seemed quiet and nice. Quickly I called to ask if it would be available to someone with pets. How many pets, the landlord wanted to know.

Some people I love and respect had advised me to lie about that. But AA teaches honesty in all things, and I soon realized that the stress and distress of having to explain or hide some furry person or persons would put me in jeopardy of drinking.

I took a deep breath and told the truth, all set to drive on.

"Hmmm," said the landlord. "That's a lot. I'd have to meet you, and we'd have to talk about it. Where are you now?"

Within minutes he was showing me the house. I scarcely looked at it: Did it have floors? Yes. A roof? Check, and ceilings too. Oh, and how much was the rent? I was thrilled to learn I could afford it.

I went back to see the place twice more that day, and the next day I said I would rent it. As we shook hands, I sighed in relief.

"Feeling better?" asked my new landlord. "Much," I replied.

We were on our third date when S put down his knife and fork, looked at me seriously and told me there was something we had to discuss.

Uh oh. This doesn't sound promising.

Tentatively he asked: "How do you feel about ski lodges?"

Ski lodges? Well, I'm not a skier — no mountains in the Midwest where I grew up — but what's not to like about ski lodges? I like fires, cozy chairs to curl up in and read books, drink hot rum toddies. So sure, I told him. I like them.

Visibly relieved, he went back to his dinner.

Two months into our relationship, he asked me what I thought about sailing. Again, not something I had much experience with. Blue skies, bluer waters, warm breezes, fancy drinks with little umbrellas in them; again, what‘s not to like? So yes, I told him, I like sailing.

He smiled. "Would you and the girls like to join me for a week sailing in the British Virgin Isles next spring?"

Oh dear Lord, I think I love this man.

In my 15 years of marriage, we didn't travel much. Starting our own business and having kids one-two-three were contributing factors, but the reality was that Ex didn't like going outside his comfort level.

He liked to eat the same meals at the same restaurants, go to the same resorts. The one time we went to Japan on a business junket, he wouldn't even venture out of the hotel during free time. So visiting my folks in South Carolina was about the extent of our vacation experiences, where Ex would immediately set up a temporary office so he could work.

My husband and I are supposed to start marital counseling again this month. You may remember that the last time we went to counseling it didn't turn out so well...our pastor had to refer us to a professional because we were just too wacky, and then the professional guy got way too fascinated with me and stopped helping the marriage while he tried to wrap me around his finger.

No, things don't happen easily for us.

I asked my husband to try counseling again a few months ago and at first he was insulted, then he was apprehensive, and then he was agreeable as long as I waited until October. September is a really busy month for him at work so he didn't want to have to deal with marital counseling while working overtime. Okay, fair enough, so I agreed to wait.

It's October and he hasn't brought up marital counseling. I'm not going to wait for him to bring it up; I'm going to make an appointment for us whether he brings it up or not. Let's face it; if I didn't take the reins in this particular task I don't think it would ever get done.

I'm excited to see if counseling helps this time. Really, I would love nothing more than for counseling to show us how to be a happily married couple again and to save our marriage. The last few times we went to counseling all it did was give us an hour to get mad at each other, and then a week to simmer in anger until the next session.

Maybe this time it will be different. Maybe this time a light bulb will go off and we'll fall madly in love with each other again. Maybe we'll have a stronger relationship than ever because we've overcome our difficulties and came out of it all stronger.

...Or maybe we'll just find out that it's not going to work. 

Before Levi I was never capable of having "emotionless, no strings attached, sex." Being somewhat of a hopeless romantic, I couldn't even fathom such a thing. I wanted love, I wanted passion, I wanted romance. Everything else just seemed dull.

After Levi though, I completely understood. I didn't want a relationship. I didn't want to hear about anybody's problems. I didn't want to go out to dinner. But I did, sometimes, want to have sex. So, no strings attached sex became my "thing." Being new to that game I quickly discovered a few things.

1. There is no such thing as "no strings attached sex." Sure everyone talks a good game, men especially. But when you actually start playing you realize that emotions creep up (obviously varying) no matter what the situation. We are human, we have emotions. Damn.

2. These "relationships" are actually harder to manage because in between having sex all you're talking about is how great it is that you're not getting attached, how awesome it is that you're not in a relationship, how not jealous you are, etc. When actually, you are in denial, or at least one of you is.

3. As a result of all of that, these relationships oftentimes have messier break-ups than traditional relationships. Why? Because neither party was being completely honest and that is bound to hurt someone's feelings.

I just found this out again. And this time, it was my feelings that got hurt.

Found myself engaging with a man that I had already known for a bit who is also going through a divorce. We found ourselves talking about the divorce process at a party one night. Shortly thereafter we found ourselves having a "casual fling."