I’ve been isolating lately. Not that I’ve been turning down invitations to do stuff or go places, no one’s actually been up to much. But I also haven’t sought anyone out, either. If I did want to do something, all I would really have to do is reach out to one of my friends and I’d have plenty to occupy my time. But I’ve been craving to be alone. I’ve felt like this for a while now.
You know that emotional constipation I mentioned before? Where I couldn’t cry because I had cried so much that even if I tried to force myself, no tears would come? Maybe I said it somewhere else. Anyway, that broke today. I didn’t even try to cry. It just happened. A lot of stuff came out, stuff I didn’t realize I was holding onto.
The main thing that came up was mourning the death of my marriage. I think that in a way I’ve glossed over that in the recent months. It has shown up in blips here and there, but I hadn’t realized just how present that loss still is for me. But really, what did I expect? It’s only been 9 months.
I cried over Mr. Nerd too. But I was finally able to link it to the bigger picture. My loss of him is also connected to the loss of my marriage.
My friend, Babe, (who I sometimes ask to slap me in the face with reason but she has been kind enough to gently tell me how it is) said something a few days ago that made absolute sense. She said that I’ve just come out of a long term relationship, that I feel like I need to believe that love wins out and that happiness happens. I knew straight away that she was right, but it’s taken time for it to fester in order for the impact of that realization to fully hit me.
I thought my marriage was for forever. I dedicated every ounce of time, love and energy I had into that relationship for 13 years believing I was investing in something unbreakable. I was in it till death. Leaving was not an option.
I was so dedicated that even when I started to notice I was unhappy, I thought that if I could try harder to make it work, even ignore it, maybe I could stick it out until we were old and one of us died, then I would be able to live the way I wanted or wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore because well, I’d be dead. Morbid, right? But that’s where I was. It was less scary to think about being widowed or dead than it was for me to voluntarily leave. I even considered that if she were to find someone else who she fell in love with (like an affair), I’d be heartbroken but also relieved, like I was let off the hook.
I left my whole world behind when I left her. I had a house, financial stability, relational stability, adopted family members, friends, dogs, and a clear and certain future. We were going to start a family eventually. Things were predictable and safe. I gave that up.
I literally started over again. I moved out with a bed, a coffee table, all the pictures and knickknacks full of memories I had collected throughout the years, and Valentine. Everything and everyone else stayed with her. I was now an outsider with no link to my past.
I didn’t have anyone waiting for me on the other side. I had my family, who I’m not super close to, and my new work friends. I walked into a pitch black future where I couldn’t see past the length of my arm.
The decision to leave came at a staggering cost. One I’m still paying. But I am willing to pay it for the freedom I’ve received.
The link to Mr. Nerd is that I’m still looking for that happy ending. Wanting to believe it can still happen for me. He gave me a sense of a clear future, one that I could predict. And real love, something I wasn’t expecting to feel for a long time, if ever again.
Since that fell apart, I’m back to where I started, alone and unsure of what’s in store for me. It’s a scary place to be and I struggle with feeling hopeless that I’ll ever get a happily ever after.
I’m going to be 34 in October. Eventually I want to have children. I see my other single female friends who are slightly older than me and they have given up that hope. This concerns me. But then I figure that if I really want children, I will have them, regardless of whether I’m still single or not. If I want something bad enough, I will make it happen. I know that much about myself.
I’m hoping that I won’t feel like isolating for too much longer. Right now it feels good to my soul, but it’s not always healthy. I’m getting there. I’m a work in progress and that’s okay by me.