Thursday, May 20, 2010

(un) Till...

                 We separated in December.  We had stopped sharing a bed in April of last year. By June (Fathers Day) and right before our 10th anniversary things had deteriorated to the point that I knew there was no recovery. So, technically, I've been "alone" and or felt "alone" for about thirteen months.  That's a long time. And not so long.  Not long at all when you think about the Thirteen years that preceeded it.  Dating, Engagement, Marriage.  Thirteen years of belonging. Belonging to someone and something. A person, a family, a commitment.  Eight minutes in the judges chambers and it is over, offically.  It was over along time before.
                 Ironically, now that we don't live together, we are friends again.  I am welcome to come to his house (what was our home) anytime, to hang out, visit our dog, sort through things that still need sorting.  And it does work.  When things get uncomfortable, or he gets weird, I can leave.  I didn't have that option before.
                 Right now I am ok.  And my Daughter, who is my whole life and my joy is happy.  I am independant to a point.  My parents have welcomed us into their home to help us save funds to pay off debts.  We are safe.  We are loved.  Sometimes though we crave our own space.  I suppose that is normal.  And eventually, we will have that.
                  I swore, don't we all, that I would be single forever now. And I may very well be. I am terrified of ruining another persons life, again.  But stepping back from it all there are things I miss so much about being married that I hunger for it.  Really. That beautiful feeling of being loved so much.  The ease of belonging to another person. Touching. Working in tandum to accomplish everyday things: laundry, dinner, bills, household stuff, making a bed, reading the paper- together.  A genuine "How was your day" and an unrushed ear to hear about it. A warm place in the bed to snuggle.  A hand to hold, for better, worse.  A hankerchief when something at church makes you cry. Doing for that other person. Being helpful. Being needed. Being useful. Purposeful. Fulfilling.  Feeling cherished. And "I love you"'s.
                 Oh... and arms to be folded into and a nice warm chest to melt on to when you feel awful, or sad and you just need to be held. There is healing in that. Like forehead kisses...

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