Sometimes I get sad that I don't get to have that pristine, magical fairytale. I suppose I almost had it once. Looking back, I don't think I knew myself well enough for that to work out.
Then I tried again, but that was a crock. I tried to manufacture the fairytale - trying to pick up where I had just left off - but the prince was all wrong and somehow I ended up the wicked stepmother instead of the princess.
So I'm trying again. I couldn't ask for things to be better than they are and I feel really good about my choices. But I feel like an old woman. I don't have the innocence and naivete of a princess falling in love.
And even if I get that magical love I've always wanted... my story has been tainted with divorce and stepchildren. Of course these things aren't bad, but they're not ideal.
Every now and then I stomp my feet and pout and wonder, Why didn't I get to have the fairytale? Why can't I experience a first marriage and a first baby with the man who will be my only husband and I'll be his only wife.
And a long-forgotten fairytale
is in your eyes again
and I'm caught inside a dream world
where the colors are too intense
and nothing is making sense
There's a floating town of eiderdown
in a mist of mystery
There's an old enchanted castle
and the princess there is me
decked out like a Christmas tree
After my wedding, I sent my gown in to the dry cleaner we always used. After a couple of weeks, I was wondering where my dress was... I kept calling the cleaners and sensed I was getting the run around. I went in one day and the woman at the counter let me walk back to the machines to see where my dress might be. She pulled out my 'dress' which did not look at all like that beautiful, full, satin, pearly gown I gave my vows in... but it looked more like a dingy, shriveled kitchen rag.
I was thinking... So you're telling me you use those fancy cleaning machines to remove all traces of this thing looking like an actual wedding dress and somehow you're gonna breathe some dress-life back into it? I'm no laundry technician but something did not look right and I expressed that. She looked nervous and told me it "wasn't done yet".
A week or so later, I got a call from the owner telling me they had "lost" the dress. I got a pathetic credit for dry cleaning services and a small check to reimburse me for what I could re-sell the dress at. (I planned to sell the dress immediately... that should have been a pretty good indicator that I wanted out.)
Disregard the feelings of shame and regret I have been trying to inject into your heart all of these years. You should actually be proud of all those moments of bullshit, dishonesty, manipulation and misrepresentation. For they are Gold Medal Olympian Moments - winning like any moment in history possibly could. They are lasting and remembered, long after they have ceased to be actually occurring. Engraved. Those moments are like a powerful historical figure, except more Hitler than MLK Jr. because those moments are killing other moments that just want the chance to breathe and grow in the space of love and freedom. I had a dream that I could contain, control, release or forget those moments.
M has reached out to me with a few nostalgic emails/texts since D-Day. They were coming maybe every couple of weeks and slowly dwindled. At first, I was sad for his sadness. Then I started getting pissed off and irritated. Is that self-pity I smell? Oh HELL NO!
He would say things like, "I worry that no one will know me like you did." Text me a picture of a dinner I cooked him with, "I sure miss your cooking." THAT IS FUCKING SELF PITY.
Shouldn't you be reflecting on what you did to contribute to this mess and growing from it? Email me when you have any revelations that confirm I'm not a crazy person for having wanted an honest and communicative partner.
A while back, I gave a divorcing friend some advice about how to approach it. I believe it's best to leave out the finger-pointing details and complaints because if you want out, what good will it do? But now I worry that because I did that, he might have no fucking clue how much he sucked as a husband! Have I done him a disservice?
There were some good qualities. But there was a consistent presence of dishonesty, laziness, selfishness and manipulation. The pathetic part was, that I was aware of all of this and kept choosing the relationship. I just understood why he was the way he was - I saw the scared little boy inside.
August 1st, I finally had enough of the self-piteous messages. He sent me a photo from the day I moved out, I'm standing at the foot of the stuffed U-Haul. I remember being so pissed that he snapped that photo. In the moment I knew: You're going to look at this picture one day and feel bad for yourself. He can be so damn self-serving.
He told me he was sending a message for our "anniversary" - the day I moved out. He lamented that we didn't develop the kind of friendship that we said we would. Then admitted that we both know that's because he hadn't moved on the way I had.
I could smell the self-pity as though it leaked from his fingertips and inked the email itself.
I responded and let him know that I care about him and am happy to be there for him for successes and challenges that don't involve me. If it involves me, he should seek out other friends for support. I was kind but firm. He responded, "Ok."
A disappointment.
Oh, you shouldn't have done,
You couldn't have done,
You wouldn't have done the things you did then.
And we could've been happy.
What a piteous thing,
A hideous thing was tainted by the rest,
But it won't get any harder,
And I hope you'll find your way again.
And it won't get any higher,
And it all boils down to what you did.
This was an unfinished post from shortly after my divorce. Posting it now for storage in the time machine.
My ex-husband and my ex-fiance both called me to tell me that they were sat at adjacent tables at my favorite sushi restaurant. To make it even more awkward, M was with a girl who is my doppleganger and later admitted that he asked her out because of this fact. FML.
I am officially thirty years old. This has been an emotional birthday in so many good ways. For most of my marriage, I felt badly on my birthday. I would tell myself on my birthday, "Next year, I want to be happy. I need to be out of this marriage." And that birthday would roll around and I would be so depressed that I never mustered up the courage to leave something that wasn't working. I had many reasons for staying and it was always complex. But deep down, I knew I should've never gotten married.
I declared my separation before my 29th and officially moved out about a week after my birthday. It was too soon and too raw to be actually happy on my 29th. I was taking the right steps, but I was an emotional mess. This year, I am clear. I am rebuilt. I am elated.
I get teary just thinking about it. I kept letting myself down, year after year. Doing myself the injustice of staying when I shouldn't have. I am so comforted in my friendships and in my little cozy home. I am taking care of myself and it has been such a very, happy, birthday.
This song is dedicated to myself.
Who knows your birthday
Who knows your number
Who knows your color
Who knows your hands
Who knows the sum
The sum of all your parts
Who knows your limit
Who knows your highest
Who knows your lowest
Who knows your end
Who knows that bottom
The bottom of your heart
Hold on, hold on
Keep holding on to me
I will love you from the bottom
No one holds you better than me
Hold on, hold on
Doing the best we can
I will love you on your birthday
I will love you better than them
I abandoned this blog once I felt I had processed the majority of my grieving. This outlet was actually very helpful.
I still have important realizations about my marriage/divorce experience and I should get back to documenting them. This is good stuff.
So I had a small revelation last night. No matter how hard that process was, no matter how sad, depressed or desperate I felt... I never felt confused or unsure. I never sat in my tears asking myself if I had made the "right" choice. I am so grateful that I got myself to the place that allowed for me to move towards a life I really wanted.
Everything, everything, everything..
In its right place
In its right place
Right place
