A few people have asked me if I am happy about going through divorce. Will I celebrate when it goes through? Will I be glad when it is over?To be honest? No I won’t. Even though I initiated it I see divorce as the sum of two people’s failure. No winners, only losers. What is there to crow about, to celebrate? I will not celebrate it.
It is years of love and shared tears, good times, loving times, finally bought to an end by some anonymous bureaucrats who know nothing of the real story.
What I do know is that it is painful… for me at least. I keep my everyday thoughts close to my own self. I am very alone at the moment so I cannot share that pain and sometimes the sheer momentousness of the path I have chosen leads me to question everything.
Yes. I have made the right decision to end it, as much for her as for me. I did try one last time but it was clear that we had both changed, both needed to move on. There would have been no point in carrying on the charade that our love had become.
I do in the quieter moments wonder if we could have tried harder. I do miss her touch, her smile, the sheer pleasure of being with her but then I remember the bad times. Angry words, and the feeling of utter pointlessness.
And so no. I will not be celebrating divorce from someone that I felt would be in my life forever. Yes I will always love her. How could I not? But it had reached its end.
So when it is over it will be more of a wake. I will remember the good times and raise a glass to her.
It will be gone but never forgotten, until the end of time.
What is to celebrate?
Three weeks gone now without my baby and it gets worse by the day. I feel numb most of the time now, I know that my heart is broken. I imagine so many things. Today I saw the same model car we had in the USA and just for a never ending moment I thought it was her. I even took a photo such was the intensity of that moment.
My brain knew it couldn’t be, not unless she had sprayed it white and shipped it 3500 miles. But my heart actually skipped a beat.
I see her everywhere. I even followed a lady in Sainsbury’s briefly the other day because she bore a slight resemblance to my baby. I see her walking in town. I see her most places if only for that brief millisecond before reality kicks in and my heart thuds almost to a stop.
And the weekends are bad. My mind scrolls through all the things we used to do. Mundane things like eating out, taking the dog to the puppy park. Visiting the river and the woods. I pray for the weekend to end but the worst time is at about 4pm. That was about 90 minutes ago and 4pm is the time we used to talk on the phone. I laid on my bed immobile pleading for that bloody phone to ring. I knew it wouldn’t but I wanted it to.
I have thousands of photos of us on the pc and several times I tried to look through them but now I cannot. The pain of seeing our smiles and the places we visited together is devastating. I have all of our old e mails but I read a few early ones which left we so sad that I had to leave them.
I keep chastising myself for not telling her I loved her one last time. I am hopeless.I feel like Leystan without his Maven, Matt without his Romilly. I have lost her forever.
I think of how people love sad songs about broken hearts. Let me tell you that I don’t.
I just want these feelings to pass. I want release from this. I just want to survive this.