Yesterday we went for a walk, the first time we've been alone in ages. You wanted to tell me what has really been going on. I went to listen. You spoke telling me of a friend, of dates you went on, of how you ended up living with her when you left. I listened. Some thoughts went shooting through my mind, keeping me from hearing. I silenced them and listened.
Something I thought would destroy me, didn't. I felt relief. Relief that the puzzle pieces fit together. Relief that I no longer had to struggle to believe you'd never ever do this. I just listened as my perceptions of you changed.
At one point I just looked in your eyes. You were talking about something about the divorce and I looked.. not gooey eyed, not sorrowfully.. just looking into the blue of your eyes, much paler than I remembered. When they were that soft pale, it usually meant you were happy, relaxed. I looked and looked but couldn't see you, couldn't see my (insert favorite endearment). There was no connection.
I looked, seeing more of the face, zooming out and felt like sand in an hour glass was just flowing out. It wasn't painful, it was just a shusshing emptying. I didn't know you, but knew you. The person you are now can't hurt who I am.
That night I decided it was a good time to journal. Oh, how I wrote. I wrote what I didn't say while I listened. How the trust was broken. How I'd never imagined you to be a liar. And how even what you told me was just another lie. There was no truth.
And then... ooops. I remembered when I'd hurt you. Oh god. Is this what it felt like for you? How do you trust someone who's lied to you? How do you get past it?
Well, dear, now I know what NOT to do.
Do not hold onto guilt. Do not survive. Do not hold onto pain. Do not be afraid.
I guess DO's are better..
Do turn to each other, regardless of how uncomfortable it is. This pain is but a smidge compared to the pain of divorce.
Do let go of guilt, shame. These are defensive shields that keep you from facing reality. What a horrible way to protect myself by constantly ripping myself apart.
Do forgive.. myself, each other, the other. It takes two to get married, two to fall apart.
Do try different things.
Well, sweetheart, things look pretty grim. The lawyers are lining up, letters flying. My goal is to have a family that is safe for my... our children. My goal is to be the incredible, adorable wonderful person I am. My goal is not to fear, to embrace the change. My goal is to keep the divorce separate from family involvement.
My goal is to forgive you.. to forgive me. And to apologize from the core of my heart for the sorrow and pain I have caused you. What brought us together was magical, spiritual and so encompassing. We would last a lifetime. Thank you for at least a quarter.
