When You Hope Divorce Marks The End of Suffering
Get up. Make coffee. Breathe. Your life is just beginning. Again. Make it better.
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Have you wished to be young again but know what you know now? I think divorce may be like that. We cannot be young again, but we can be single, and now, armed with what we know we don’t want, we can move toward what we do want.
I don’t want to be married or in a relationship. I wear a ring on the left ring finger of my left hand to confuse people. It’s not traditional, but it’s there, meaning I am closed for business. Don’t flirt with me. Don’t even look at me. I am not your challenge or your damsel in distress.
I am saving myself.
ACT I: Despair
I haven’t written a word since the week I received my divorce papers. I don’t want to be divorced.
I don’t.
I am worried about being alone, being without him. Yet, dear reader, a significant part of me seems to know that I will be better. But will I? I spend too much time collapsing under the weight of my sorrow. With him, I forced myself up and out from under it even when that seemed impossible. I worry about myself now.
I worry.
And I’ve already started to decompensate, as evidenced by the fact that I haven’t written a word since July 8th. I will miss his friendship.
I will miss him.
He made me laugh. We enjoyed the same shows. We often finished each other’s thoughts, ideas, and analyses. We both love our cats very much. And he provided for me. He is a good provider.
I thought I’d die for him and he for me.
I think he might argue that he almost did. My suffering, pain, and healing all made me selfish, self-involved, unaware of his feelings, and unable to address his needs.
How long can one be in that marriage?
Isn’t it unreasonable that I expect him to be there for me forever? When I’m not there for him? I begged him to get into therapy, and he went with me to one session. Yet it was already too late. He’d decided it was over. He once told me therapy was for couples who were already breaking up. “It’s…
