The Middle

There are stages to this divorce thing I think.
It’s like a death
There are stages of dealing with it.
I know I’ve said it before…

It’s a trauma.
A disease that lingers.

Homes are lost, hearts are broken, people are hurt.
Someone you once trusted your life with is now someone you’re afraid to send a text too.
Someone you thought would never hurt your kids is the source of the majority of their pain.

It’s a death where you both get to live.

I read something that said marriage is betting someone half of your entire world that they’ll love you forever.

I liked being married.
I loved it actually.
I was married to my best friend.
I’m speaking of more distant times, obviously things went south over time and obviously it wasn’t roses.
Overall though, I did enjoy being a married woman.
He was who I called to tell even the littlest things about my day.
He was the one I ran to when I was sad or down or happy or scared.
It was him.
He was my life partner, my dinner making buddy, my laundry assistant.
We did it all together.
He was my person.
In every aspect of life.
Every one.

The beginning and the end were rough for us.
The stuff in the middle was what was so hard to lose.
When you are going through this kind of thing, just like any break up; you remember the good more than the bad.
We see girls crying because they broke up with their boyfriend but the entire time they were together it was tears and drama.
Because there were some good times and the thought of not even having the chance to have more is what hurts.
That’s the painful part.
The middle.
Remembering the good.
The family trips and the water fights.
The fun.
The amazing.

I don’t know if I would ever get married again.
I’d like to think that I will.
I definitely would like to think that my true life partner, my soul mate, my best friend for life is out there.
I want to make dinner with someone again and chill on the couch until we fall asleep.
I want to walk by his favorite candy in the store and grab it for him; just because he was on my mind.
I want to hold hands driving down the road and I want to whisper I love you in a crowded room.

Maybe it’s cheesy.
I’m not looking and I’m not overly concerned with it right now but I do want it.
I know all men aren’t bad and I know that I played a big part in the downfall of my marriage.
I believe in love.
I think love is a choice.
I think it takes work.
It isn’t always easy but I believe you don’t give up.

I love him in a special way. The same way that I hate him in a special way.
It’s hard to explain and I don’t know that anyone else will ever really get it.
No one else has too though.

Time and distance allows us to see clearer.
I know so much more now than I did before.
I know what I want and what isn’t acceptable.

I think I’m in the acceptance stage.
That’s what my new therapist says anyway.
I figured I’d give that another go.
I recommend it. Highly.
Everyone could use a non-judgmental, neutral person to talk too.
Not on either side.
Just there to listen.

It’s almost over.
Almost there.

That’s when we can be free.
Either way.
No matter what the outcome is, no matter how often he shows himself, that will be closure.
Stupid stamp.
Even then though, just like a death, the actual deed may be done and the file closed but we have to finish it in ourselves.
We need to forgive ourselves and find peace in our own hearts.
Accept the wrong doings on everyone’s part and move on.
That’s the hard part.
Once that is done, that’s when we can move on.




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