I feel as if, through my last couple of posts, I've projected this image of a woman filled with positivity who's well-equipped to deal with the chaos and sadness that is her life. What I want you to know is that that couldn't be further from the truth. I'm trying to be that woman, and maybe that's why I write like her, but I'm not her yet, and in truth, I don't think I'm very close.
I did think that, though, up until today. I felt hopeful and empowered, as if my life really were waiting to begin, as if, yes, I'd spent the last however many years surrounded by water without a drop to drink but that rainclouds were finally gathering. And logically I know that's most likely true. Logically, I know that when a perusal of the diary I've had for the last 22 years reveals almost verbatim entries year after year after year after year, things can't really go anywhere but up. But still--when I got an email from Glenn today telling me he contacted a divorce lawyer, I have to tell you that I wasn't feel overly empowered or hopeful in even the remotest sense. What I was feeling was like somebody had just punched me. Twice.
Don't misunderstand me; I knew that divorce was where we were headed, and I know that, at this point, it's the only way either one of us will ever find happiness. Neither of us can fully, or even partially, move forward with our lives while we're tethered to to this marriage. It just can't be done.
So what's the problem?
Well, divorce is just so...final. And finality is not at all what I'm about. I mean, I want this to be final, but making it final means making a definitive change, and if there's one thing I can't stand more than finality, it's change.
But like it or not, I guess change is gonna come.
Here's hoping I'm ready.
I did think that, though, up until today. I felt hopeful and empowered, as if my life really were waiting to begin, as if, yes, I'd spent the last however many years surrounded by water without a drop to drink but that rainclouds were finally gathering. And logically I know that's most likely true. Logically, I know that when a perusal of the diary I've had for the last 22 years reveals almost verbatim entries year after year after year after year, things can't really go anywhere but up. But still--when I got an email from Glenn today telling me he contacted a divorce lawyer, I have to tell you that I wasn't feel overly empowered or hopeful in even the remotest sense. What I was feeling was like somebody had just punched me. Twice.
Don't misunderstand me; I knew that divorce was where we were headed, and I know that, at this point, it's the only way either one of us will ever find happiness. Neither of us can fully, or even partially, move forward with our lives while we're tethered to to this marriage. It just can't be done.
So what's the problem?
Well, divorce is just so...final. And finality is not at all what I'm about. I mean, I want this to be final, but making it final means making a definitive change, and if there's one thing I can't stand more than finality, it's change.
But like it or not, I guess change is gonna come.
Here's hoping I'm ready.
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