Divorce, Humanity

Little bit fallen.

this one’s a little tricky.  so- –  it was a surprise to me to be sitting with my ex and his girlfriend at two sporting events this weekend, in the same day.  it was ‘my weekend’ and wasn’t expecting to see him at all… so i was traipsing between birthday parties and soccer and basketball and lunch-out… like all the days of life….it was busy and i needed to call on my mom and hero brother to do some of the maneuvering, in order to fit it all in.

and in the past, i’ve been given a little warning that it would happen. but i suppose that time has passed.

i am so thankful for the experience, really.  it shows me how far i have come and how much there is still to go.  i can make eye contact with her, fairly easily, at this point.  but not him.  that man i used to call HubsJ.  Watching them have intimacy in that casual way of couples doesn’t hurt at all in the jealousy way, which was very nice to notice…

but it hurts in the way of ‘none of it is real’ way…  if it was false for me, it will be false for her. . . if it was so false for me, how will i ever know when its not?

…. and i am not really sure how to incorporate those things into my world view.  THAT hurts.

The small piece of me that wants them ostracized for the total annihilation of myself is small. really small. but burns pretty brightly in my self-critique.  Maybe I would’ve brushed my hair or something ? but that’s only a maybe, because i live my life pretty damn well, and hair-brushing isn’t a thing that hits my list very often.

–In my self-critique, it is the small fire of ‘revenge’ and ‘judgement’ that I’m so harsh on.  I do feel both, that J is a monster, and that J is not a monster.  Both. and I want everyone to know, both. and the vaguery of this, and the fogginess of it…

–and i do, i do want people to rub my shoulder and love me up for surviving the experience. because man, it really is a fucking doozy.   and, i mean the marriage and i mean the basketball game.

my kids like her mostly, and i’m very happy about that.  and it continues, for me, to never be about her, specifically.  its all about J. and his utterly vacuous cluelessness.  And its about my embarassment .  my feeling of fear, exposure and judgement, failure.  i own it. i’m completely overtaken by it when i’m ‘outed’ in public like this.

I try to congratulate myself for being ‘big enough’ to sit with them. but it only works in hindsight and when I’m trying to be self-congratulatory.  (aha. doubly so.)

and in truth, it needs to be more ABOUT ME. JUST ME.  Me, SOLA e CONTENT.  me, the woman at the game with her kids, meeting her former in-laws and watching her kid leave his soul on the court. thats it. thats all it is.

I spent an awful lot of my life making everything about him. and that is not how my life is supposed to go.

there is a hell of a lot more to me than wifed or unwifed.

i don’t really want to post this one.  Wish I could tell you I was all done with all of this.

But I’m not.

closeup photo of black and green foosball table
Photo by Soumya Ranjan on Pexels.com

 

Advertisements
Divorce, Humanity

Letter to that Guy- more online dating fiascos, by me.

Dear Guy,

I have to tell you how sorry I am.  My disappointment is not actually in YOU but in me. Its that classic, its not you but me bit that totally leaves everyone unsatisfied, no matter how true.

All we did was text, WE NEVER EVEN MET… so there are no children to care for, no body parts to have checked, no heart to re-invigorate…. nothing. nothing.  but what i did was something which is both old and well-known to me, and new and sparkling in its dysfunction.

i made you the answer to questions i used to have. desires i used to have.

you said, ‘i like to read’, i heard…

i’m the smart guy you’ve been waiting for… we can talk about books and i can teach you things you didn’t even know you wanted to learn… let’s hold hands!

you said, ‘my children are grown’… i heard…

we can meet anytime, anywhere, he has an EMPTY house… WE ARE FREE…. SEX! ALL THE TIME!!

you said, ‘i’m worried about you’… i heard…

( i heard it right, but my reaction went like this…)  OH MY GOD, this is what it feels like to have somebody care about me? to be watched out for? i’m going to cry.  i should ask him to marry me… i mean, arranged marriages work sometimes, right? why not? he wouldn’t be too freaked out, right? he must feel what i am feeling….

”””””’

sigh.

deciding to straddle the line between wanting a real thing and being ready for a real thing has made an interesting shift occur in me. this kind of mental gymnastics in which i singlehandedly create the makebelieve-come-true is something i did right before my very first date after the marriage ended .

i remember it so clearly. it took me a year and a half to be interested in dating. and my birthday approached and i went ahead and joined the online world and got a date. we texted ahead of time,  and i did the same thing i did this week… i made him into the ‘one’.

really? the first date in a year and a half is THE ONE? hmmm. what could be wrong about that?

i don’t even believe in the ONE.

so, upon seeing him, even in profile, still in car,  i realized what i had done, what i had created.  and never did it again.

and so the fact that i have suddenly succumbed to it, again? so curious.

what is this?

I’m 4 years separated. have had my first date, kiss, sex, whathaveyous… have learned a whole lot, have remembered more.  why, suddenly, am i back to square one ?

forgetting everything that i’ve learned, the power that i’ve reclaimed? would i really want to date and find myself an empty husk again? without the solidity and groundedness that i have now?

i suppose the fact that i’m seeing all this and adding ‘no text’ to my daily list shows a bit of something has dislodged… i don’t want to give into what seems to be a natural skill set for me, the creative imagination overspill.

i don’t know who, or what is coming… but i’m pretty sure that when it does, i’ll meet it face to face and not in my imagination. so i can just ask my monkey brain to step aside for awhile, go eat a banana for chrissakes.

1204181425
This picture? Mostly because of the spiral, the loop loop loop of my brain these days… and the variations of grey. 

 

Divorce, Humanity, Uncategorized

Fog continues. Grief. I know fabrics.

Today i’ve turned off all the kitchen lights, and am typing by computer screen, sparkle lights and a damp grey morning. soft wool. 1120180831a

people are really lovely, they really are. above all.  cashmere.

and still, yesterday i almost crawled back into my bed while the kids were here.  it can be done, but i can only handle it when there is no will left in my body, and vomit is coming forth.

so i must have some will left in my body while the fog is here.  i stay out of bed while kids are here.  old school corduroy, stiff, scratchy.

but man, this grief is hitting hard this year.  and its been five years, so there isn’t a real trigger, except in realizing how much time has passed and how mad i am at my dad for not being here for these five years, and how i would really like to have him around, mad or not.  and how i still look for him everywhere. piles and piles of washed cotton, cold and damp.

its been a big five years.

i think i’d still be unhappily married if it weren’t for what his death showed me.  it uncovered the truth of my unhappiness. the untrustworthy man, the unreliable man, the inexplicable man that i was married to brought Bold in the loss of what in many ways was his opposite.  the things i loved so about my husband were washed out by the things which really make him ‘not the marrying sort’… no matter how many times he tries.

and here i am, swamped into the tub, barely reaching the lip to see out.  turning down work, or asking for delays while i sink.  flannel.

man.

 

its been a big five years. plasticwrap. (not fabric, but still. how it feels.)

Divorce

Sliver of Innocence, you glowing thing, you.

So, yesterday I had therapy.  Well, technically, I missed therapy.  My appointment reminder happened five minutes before i was meant to walk in, and its 20 minutes from here.  My frantic call, my hatred of self for having to pay for something I didn’t even benefit from… blagh.

BUT, as the universe unfolds and unfolds and unfolds again, it worked perfectly. she had a space later in the day and another patient mistook her appt and showed up just in time to take my missed space.

get the convolution that unfolded for all of us there?

Believe it or not the point of this post has nothing to do with any of that. Actually, i think that is fairly par for the course for my meandering style.

One of the things that has been bugging me lately is my own idealism.  Its causing me grief as I try to date or not date. I try so hard to accept people as they are, and I think 98% of me does this…  but there are slivers and shards of me that are looking for the big love, the knight in shining armor, the completely unreal.

And I’m trying to deal with these slivers in therapy. and its messing with me on the daily.  Those slivers still can’t believe that the big love I had wasn’t enough. That the big love I had didn’t meet its match in reciprocity. Those slivers kept me in a marriage about three years too long. They are little fiberglass splinters… can’t see em but they hurt and hurt and hurt.

I KNOW that this is my naivete. My little glowing shard that Superman opens up the vault with… I KNOW THIS.  But I am so mad at that little glowing thing.  I am not sure how to wrap my hands around it without choking it to death.  I’m afraid of what such violence would do to me.  What if its my golden center?

AAAAARGGGH. I don’t have the answers. but it has been suggested to me that i invite the glowing shard in, ask her to sit down at the campfire with my cynicism and my creativity and my color obsessions and make some new stories.  some grown up ones, where golden can stay, and change, and glow.

so i have work to do. a whole shebangs of shebangs the drum.

 

 

Divorce

The EYE. Halloween. Happy Divorce.

I’m sitting by the fire. Its quiet. There aren’t any kids within 150 feet of me. I’m enjoying the hell out of the eye of this storm.

I got them all ready. I fed them. I visited the two neighbors that we are wanting to visit. Then their dad arrived. and they all left.  I got one family of trick or treaters. so far. but its 7:30 on a school night so its very possible that Halloween is over. for me.

They will return, and I will shower them, and calm their rattled sugar-infested brains. They will brush their teeth. Someone will yell and it will be me. Then the lights will be off.

Out of all the days, all the holidays, this tradition of my ex doing the Trick or Treating is my most favorite. ever. MOST.FAVORITE.

IT MIGHT LITERALLY BE THE BEST THING ABOUT BEING DIVORCED. Happy Divorce dance. right here. right now.

i confess to missing tons and tons of kids at the door. but. not right now, while I’m in the eye.

I whispered this whole post. Because I’m in it. THE EYE.

1031181727c