We get closer to the final divorce stuff, the less I write. I don't want to write about how my day to day is just existing, and not living. I don't want to write about Scumbag and his problems because they are far away from me and I like it that way. I don't want to write about my new friend who I may have accidentally lost already due to a slip of the tongue. Time will tell if I am to be forgiven. This hurts, but at least it's before we got in deeper to the friendship. I can't afford to lose any more important people in my life, he was not important yet.
I can write about how the first draft of the divorce documents made me burst into tears at my desk at work, my co-worker came and hugged me while I sobbed. How the final draft had me crying at my dining room table for an hour straight last night, making my lap and the front of my shirt soggy with tears and snot. This was all sober, too. Not a drop of alcohol, just taking those fears and that pain and letting it come in waves again. It hurt the same as months and months ago. I thought I had gone and processed it all already, but this wound feels fresh. It's wide open and bleeding....again.
I've had a movie reel going in my head of all the happy times, and sad times, all mixed together in no particular order. This movie has been going on for the past 36 hours or so. I'd like to write some down, maybe it will end.
I remember Jeckyll at 25 with long brown curly hair looking at me in a darkened bedroom with hungry eyes, I was fresh out of the shower. I remember falling into bed with him and the electricity we had that night. I remember listening to his deep voice in the dark, telling me things. They were the most important things I'd ever heard in my life.
Then, I remember Jeckyll with graying long curly hair calling me a drunk, or telling me he was "half out of this marriage for the past ten years". Ugly words, never to be forgotten. Staying out all night doing comedy, or rather, doing comedy then staying out all night anyway.
Then, I'm back to us at 25 walking through a parking lot downtown, the first time we said I love you. I remember being around 34 and deciding to take a detour through a cemetery walking home one night at 2:00 am, just for fun. I remember painting the bedroom in our new house when we moved in, listening to the same Morcheeba album over and over again on the boom box. Dinners on the deck, then the patio after we tore the deck down, then we got a little fireplace. Our outdoor oasis.
I remember meeting him Friday night after Friday night at Kung-Fu classes for a couple years. I remember the day he told me he decided he wanted to start therapy (we were taking a walk), and also the day he decided to try anti-depressants. It helped, tremendously.
I remember going to concerts, many concerts. Going to LasVegas a few times. Going to Vancouver, BC. Going to the Coast for a day or a weekend. Going on a horrible cruise with my family that almost had us divorced a million years ago. I remember morning walks in the park before work, where we held hands and drank coffee and started our day together for 45 minutes before we faced the real world.
Going to fancy dinners. Getting married. The Honeymoon. Two years back in college to get a degree. Getting the dog as a puppy and how terrifying that was, the littlest pug in the world, just for us to love and take care of. Buying a new bed together for the first and only time. I remember getting very little to no help remodeling the kitchen. I remember him coming home and telling me he got fired, and I had to find a full-time job real quick. I'm still there.
I remember some real great hotel sex. I remember once crying after sex. I remember cuddling was kind of a tenuous thing. The bedroom was full of land-mines. Anniversaries here and there. Weekends of playing video games together, or just doing nothing, and then comedy. Sharing good books, and discussing them. Movies, discussing them. Music, trying to share, and only once in awhile agreeing they were great.
I remember being angry, frequently. I was not always kind. I was not always honest, I was not always forgiving. I pushed too hard, I got my way. I cried and pouted. I bullied and bribed, I pulled out the guilt card. I was not the best partner at all, so that brings me to me and my faults, harder to bear. Unable to go back in time and do it over again with compassion and love. I had demands and needs that could not be met, and I never took into consideration that they simply could not be met. I never considered that his needs were not being met either.
I remember good camping trips and really horrible camping trips. Good holidays with friends and bad holidays with family. Weddings, weddings, weddings. Some shitty, some very fun.
I remember driving him to the hospital so he could say goodbye to his Grandmother as she was passing. A private moment where I stood in the hallway to not intrude.
I remember visiting my parents and calling him every day so he could talk me down off the ledge, the visit so raw and painful. He was my lifeline. He said he'd never let me go back there alone. Well, I haven't been back, and now I'll have to eventually go, alone. Not as I planned. I'll have to do it all alone, and deal with what's there.
I remember quitting drinking and how difficult that was, it's amazing I managed a year. I did therapy for the first time in my life. I think about how life would have been different if we hadn't tried so hard to stay together. Maybe we tried too hard, maybe we were supposed to give up sooner. Some say hindsight is 20/20 but my hindsight has not kicked in yet.
I could go on and on about my movie reel, what I just mentioned is but the tip of the iceberg of memories, both good and bad and nonsensical and meaningful. Things I have no idea why I remember, I just do. Things I'm sure I've forgotten will haunt him instead of me. If we compared memory notes, they would surely be different.
I have been crying, I am not crying right at this moment. I will be fine eventually, perhaps these are the last death throes of this relationship in my mind. I don't want to forget it all, but I need to be OK with remembering. I can't let all 18 years just slip away as if they didn't happen, but the pain of remembering right now is too much to bear. I don't know how to navigate it, so I'll blunder about in my head until something subsides.
I will hope I feel better tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. Surely it will happen.