It lasts forever, this interim. It never goes away. It haunts me, taunts me, pulls me deep and close then pushes me far away. Pursuing my education has given me focus and yet, still, this turmoil won't end. It's true what is commonly said: life is hard. When we do not have sufficient resources it's difficult to truly enact change. When two people commit to one another, oftentimes it is based on the belief that hard times will not come. When times get tough, we try to work through things. But when a couple has lost the love or one person has lost their sense of commitment, it's easy to give up. It is during these times that there is often a failure to remember the need for partnership, if not emotionally, then at least morally.
When you love someone, it's difficult to see that perhaps what you feel isn't quite what they feel. We love, we adore, we LOOOOOOOOVVVVVVE. It's never the same for any two people, I've discovered. I have always said that the person who loves less has the control. In the past I had relationships in which I attempted to be the one with the control. I tried to keep clear about giving too much of myself, choosing instead to distance myself if I felt like I was getting too involved. Well, what goes around DOES come around! I finally get to an age and a state of mind whereby I'm ready to jump, to really jump. I risked it. I chose to give all of myself. In doing so, I lost control. I lost my sense of self, my sense of value, my sense of taking a stand. I became a couple, yes, all by myself! I realize now (hindsight, right?!) that I while I jumped in with both feet, I was giving myself to one who had barely put his toes in, choosing instead to stand back and watch the show, reveling in the spectacle of me in love.
When things get rough and you realize that you signed up for a different life than the one your spouse did, it's deafening. It's devastating. It's the end, the bitter end. Things unravel. Things fall apart. Things CHANGE. It's quite amazing how much your perspective is truly askew when you are in love and "in life". Even during hard times, things are clear, they are transparent. Once reality sets in, it gets muddy. The smog of deceit and uncertainty fills the air and it's hard to see. You question yourself, the other person, the world! The first thing that happens is friends become scarce. The positivity police aren't interested in shitty news. You really figure out quickly who gives a shit. The people who proclaimed, "we're here for you!" are gone - POOF! Just like that! And just like that, you are alone, standing there in the gray smog, holding your heart in your hands, the blood and destruction dripping down your wrist and onto your open-toed shoes. You are soaking wet with sadness and confusion, and you want to be strong. You really do. You want to move forward and tell yourself, "you're worth so much more!" and get over this pain. The truth is, no matter how many ways I've tried to say it, out loud, to myself, to others, the truth is, when I'm all alone, in my car, in my (formerly our) rom, in my kitchen, those voices starts whispering to me. They say, "he chased her, he called her, he didn't want you, he settled." They call me stupid and naïve. They tell me that I made the biggest mistake of my life, and that my life is half over but never really started. What does one do when her life is half over, but it still has not begun?
I don't know what to do anymore. The truth is, the world expects that as time goes on ("it's been years, get over it!"), nothing becomes clear except the fact that NOTHING IS CLEAR. Time is supposed to bring back the focus, the self-worth ("we've heard it all before, now move on!"), the drive, the determination. All that really happens is that you have more shit to think about, more situations to look back on with sadness, more red flags to discover in "hindsight" (there's THAT word again). It doesn't get better.
It isn't getting better.
