My dearest readers, I want to thank you for coming and reading my recent entries. I know my life has been depressing like a Greek tragedy these past couple weeks. I’d love to say that I am over it, that I’ve moved forward, that I’m embracing this new life ahead of me fully, but alas, it would not be true.
No, I am stuck in place. Every step I take forward, is countered by a step backwards. Yesterday felt like a really great day in the morning, but by time I was going to bed last night I was an emotional wreck. The downturn came when my soon to be ex-wife (MSBEW) came home and got ready for our trip to Costco. She pretty much dressed down, putting on comfortable and somewhat drab clothing that I am so accustomed to seeing her wear at home.
The thing that struck me, however, was how utterly beautiful she looked with her long hair (which was always my favorite look for her; she had it when our relationship first began) cascading down her thin shoulders. Her slender figure was flattered by the tight fitting and somewhat slimming clothes (not that she needs to be slimmed down), and she carried herself with ease and relaxation. It was stunning, and it honestly sent me flying off into the deep end.
She was so pretty, and just perfect in all the ways I had always loved about her. It broke my heart into a thousand itty-bitty pieces to know that someone else would be the person who got to spend their life with her; that it would not be me who got to see her appear so effortlessly beautiful on a daily basis; that I would not get to be the one anymore who was allowed to admire her and bask in her perfect imperfection.
It took everything I had not to burst into tears in the kitchen upon seeing how just… radiant she was. Going to Costco with her turned that effort into a marathon of trying to keep myself together. She wore a Hamline University hoody I had bought for her when I was attending paralegal school as well as her totally adorably goofy rain boots that are so perfectly her (quirky, cute, practical, yet impractical). Seeing her dressed like this, like I had so many times before, was excruciating. She looked so awkward, honestly, but it was one of the things I loved the most about her; just how awkwardly cute she is on a daily basis. It was one of her most endearing qualities for me.
I managed to keep myself together at Costco and we left with entirely too much stuff (shocker, I know). Because neither of us have really had the desire to cook lately we decided to go to the Taco Bell that’s like a block away to get some terrible-for-you-and-not-so-great-tasting-food to bring home. When we got home we put away the things we needed to put away and started to eat. We decided to try to finish the last season of Dr. Who on Netflix that we hadn’t finished, but I just couldn’t get into it. I couldn’t just sit on the couch with her, watching one of our favorite shows together like nothing had changed; not after my marathon effort to keep myself together.
All I wanted to do was cry and be alone. I just couldn’t stand being around her, the pain was too great. To love someone so entirely, so completely, so unconditionally and know at the same time that it is no longer returned the way it used to be was too much to bear. She was too beautiful, too charming, too perfectly-imperfect for me to be around, so I shut the show off and eventually went upstairs to my office to be alone.
I got on WoW hoping to be distracted, hoping my friends were online to chat, and hoping it would keep me from crying. My plan failed. A friend was online but she asked me for an update. Relating everything to her felt good but it also unleashed the tears that threatened to never stop. I have honestly never felt such exquisite emotional anguish as I did last night.
I felt so alone; so lost and alone. It felt like the pain would never subside, like it would swallow me up into oblivion. Who was I without her? What life would or could I even have without her in it? Every part of who I am and where I am at is so entangled and intertwined with her that it feels like half of my heart has been taken away from me. Everything feels so pointless now. Why keep living and trying to better myself without the person I love the most in the entire world to share it with? It all just seems like a waste, like seriously, what is the point?
I decided, upon being invited to the gay bar by a friend, that I needed to get out of the house. I couldn’t just sit there crying all night, even if that’s all I wanted to do. So, I went downstairs, put my outfit from earlier back on, touched up my eyeliner and mascara (which were all but gone from the tears) and got ready to leave. I told MSBEW goodbye, hoping to just leave without a discussion. She, however, insisted on checking on me. I suspect that maybe she was afraid I was going out for the last time, if you catch my drift. I didn’t want to tell her where I was going because I wanted it to be a mystery to her. I wanted her to wonder about me and worry about me, but she would not let me leave without prying, so I told her where I was going. This seemed to make her happy, which was the last thing I wanted to see: her happy that I was going out to the bar with friends with the possibility of meeting someone intriguing there. I understand why she is happy and wants that for me, but I wanted her to be concerned for me, not happy.
I said goodbye, she told me to have fun, and I made my way to the bar. It was already so late but I didn’t care. I needed a distraction. I needed company that wasn’t her. I needed a friend who gets it and understands that things suck right now, and that’s just the way they kind of have to be.
I met up with my friends, drank a few rum and cokes, bullshitted, saw some cute girls (who I didn’t talk to), felt a bit better, and then decided I had better get home and into bed if I had any hopes of getting up for work in the morning. I walked to the car in the rain, and felt like a lady in my dress, tights, girly boots, and my polka-dot umbrella. I felt happy knowing that I got to be me, that I got to be a girl and that people accepted me for that.
And then I got back into the car, and remembered I had to drive home to see the woman who had broken my heart and life, yet who I still loved so deeply and unconditionally. I remembered how beautiful she had looked earlier and started to cry again as I sat in the car in the parking lot (this time with the help of fading rum in my system). I had been distracted for about 2 hours, but it wasn’t enough to drive out the pain. I cried the entire way home, which made driving in the rain all the harder, I might add.
When I got home I sat in the running car with the windows down in the closed garage for a few minutes, teetering on the edge like so many times before. The whispering voice urged me to just go to sleep. I felt tired already, it would be so easy to fall asleep and everything would be over. I wouldn’t have to go through the pain of watching her leave. I wouldn’t have to go through the pain of coming home to a quiet and empty house day after day, knowing she’d never be there waiting for me. I’d never have to worry about being alone forever. I’d never have to struggle to find some meaning in a life that now felt so hopelessly pointless. All I had to do was go to sleep. The car exhaust would take care of the rest and would take away my pain.
Obviously I shut the car off. Why, I cannot tell you. Something inside of me wants to keep going. Something inside of me refuses to quit and refuses to be broken. I honestly wish that piece of me would just give it up already and allow us to find that permanent rest we so desperately want, but alas my time is not yet.
Maybe there is something I’m still supposed to do. Maybe there is still some life out there than needs me, and only me, to touch it in order to save it. Or maybe I’m just a coward, too afraid of the unknown to go through with it. I keep walking up to that proverbial edge and peeking over the side into the abyss, but something is always there to stop me from doing it. Is it fear? Or is it hope? Or is it something else?
Regardless, that whisper is with me all the time now. Even now, as I write this, it’s reminding me that if we went home right now, no one would be there to interfere or stop us from going through with it. No one would find us in time to save us. We could drive home, buy sleeping pills on the way, take them, snuggle up in our bed, and hold her pillow that smells like her close to us as we faded into the darkness. I won’t lie that it is an appealing thought, and that so much of me wants to listen to that whisper. I can think of no more appealing way to go out than that right now; to fall asleep for the last time in our bed as close to the woman I loved as is possible now, so that I don’t have to live with saying goodbye to her.
My dear readers, I have lost the will to live. I keep hoping that I won’t wake up in the morning, that the dreams I’ve been having with her where we are still happy can be my permanent reality instead of a cruel illusion that fades as quickly as it comes.
Everyone is so worried about me, but I wish they weren’t. I wish no one cared so that I could just fade away without anyone noticing or being bothered. I find it so cruel that the thing that would bring me the greatest relief from the pain would bring so much of it to those who love me.
I just don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to do any of it. I hate my job, my marriage has been destroyed, my stability has been thrown into chaos, my heart has been shattered to pieces, my home is an empty shell compared to what it used to be, and my hope for tomorrow has been stolen from me. The only good thing I have going is school, yet without all the other pieces, it almost doesn’t feel worth it. How can I ever expect to be a good therapist if I am so broken myself?
I started this entry hoping to focus on all the things I appreciated about my marriage to MSBEW in order to try to feel better, to find a better viewpoint, to feel love once again; yet, here I am stuck in this seemingly permanent melancholy. I wish I could go home and go to sleep, even if not permanently, at least temporarily. I feel so tired and drained.
The only thing I can think or feel right now as I consider how close I got to being the woman I wanted to be while at the same time having her love as my wife is perfectly encapsulated by this gif:
I honestly don't know that she will ever find anyone who loves her more than I do and the hardest part is that it doesn't matter, because it wasn't enough.