Six months down...

I've wrestled with what to write about "the bomb" — that is to say, the day that Tom said he didn't want to be married to me any more. After reading a journal entry I've only shared with one other person, I figured now is as good a time as any to throw it out here for whoever (as if there's an audience) to see. I don't really care who reads it; I'm far away enough from that dark place where it's not scary or shocking for me to read what I wrote that night. Like I warned you, this shit isn't pretty. But it's honest, and it's me. And I'm not sorry for writing it.

June 19, 2004 3:16:44 AM
you aren't sure if this is the worst day. you're still numb, not sure how to process the information. you keep hoping you'll wake up, that it's a mistake, a cruel joke. you say that all great writers have some sort of traumatic experience, that it'll make a good book. if you're lucky, and smart, you'll write your novel.

you avoid mirrors because you don't want to see the hurt you feel. you close your eyes when you write because you don't want to read the words. you can't rationalize any of it. you're in denial, angry, hurt, numb all at the same time. you want a physical scar to go with your emotional ones. but you decide to channel this hurt, this emotion and write it down instead. this kind of energy and emotion doesn't come along everyday.

it wasn't supposed to be like this, you never saw it coming. you can't think of anything you would've done differently, and know deep down there's nothing you could've done.

you want to fight because it's worth fighting for. you'll miss waiting for the phone calls, waking up together. you love the feeling of hope that the car driving by will pull into the driveway, and how that means he's coming home to you. for right now, this is what hurts the most. it doesn't make sense, there should be bigger things but soon enough, the small things will add up to bigger things.

it's hard to type through tears, but you do it because you don't want to forget. anything worth having is worth going through this kind of pain. it's the only rationalization that makes sense for now.

you had other thoughts while sitting on the couch in the dark, but you can't latch onto any of them. there's too much churning, too much to try and remember.

and as you get ready to end this first installment, the introduction to whatever this will bring, you know that this is the worst day. because the other days haven't been written.
June 19, 2004 3:33:59 AM

Yeah, I wanted to inflict physical pain upon myself for about 48-72 hours after he told me. I know now that he wasn't worth the effort, that I'm better off. But do you really think I would've believed I'd be better off if you shoved a crystal ball in my face and showed me how happy I am today? I didn't want to see it, didn't want to believe it. This was my husband, you know, "till death do you part" and all that holly, jolly shit. Marriage is a commitment to me, not some promise you throw away because someone else catches your eye. But I digress.

Here's an e-mail I sent him the next morning. I was a fucking wreck, as if you couldn't tell by the writing. I included a bunch of e-mails he sent me when we first got together as a way to remind him of how he felt. I didn't include those since, well, whatever.

From: me@mac.com
Subject: once upon a time
Date: June 19, 2004 11:54:41 AM MDT
To: him@mac.com

yes of course i saved these. read every single word, especially the ones you wrote to me. my dumbass comments aren't the important ones.

am i being a little bit psycho about his? probably. i don't mean to be. i don't know how else to deal with it. crying isn't doing a whole lot for me any more. writing in my journal has accomplished little except more tears. and it's difficult to know if you're writing the right words if you can't see. but there aren't any right words for this, for any of this.

but i can describe what i'm feeling, since it was too hard this morning while i was crying. i am flattened, crushed, utterly destroyed. i am ready to abandon all hope. i cannot imagine life without you as my husband. i don't want anyone else. i don't know how to move forward, if i can or if i want to. i'm assuming this is the first of many low points. i may need to see someone, talk to someone professionally. i don't know.

i didn't want to turn this into one of those notes, so i'll stop. please promise me you'll read all of this. i know things have changed since then. but i refuse, i cannot believe they could have changed so much.

enough from me. read these, read the words from the man who said i was the realization of every hope and dream he ever had. and then please tell me you're still that man.

gotta go. floodgates opened.

jen

---

Oh, the denial. I can say that now. I didn't want to hear that then, no way in hell. Not just a river in Egypt, as they say. At least I can laugh now.

And there's the fact I listened to Peter Gabriel's "I Grieve" for about 3 hours or so that day. I wanted to remember the pain, I wanted to wallow in it. But here's the big lesson from all of this, the one I'm sure everyone hoped I would learn: Life goes on. I can imagine life without him, I'm living that life. I do want someone else, and he's a wonderfully amazing man who makes me feel loved and appreciated. I've said I have a running joke about "I was married?" I'm not joking when I say my guy makes me forget all that. It's just on a completely different level from what I had with the ex. It is better in every single way, and yeah, that scares the shit out of me — partly because I never thought I'd feel this way, and because I don't want to fuck up. Dear god, don't let me fuck up. The obvious comment out of that is, "Well, if you feel all this and it's better than when you were married, shouldn't you --" Don't finish that thought. Don't do it. Just don't. The fact I typed that observation is scary enough. Walking a very, very fine line here. In my heart, I know what I want. But I'm terrified of sharing that. You would be too if you had been where I've been. Yes, I am stone-cold sober at this point. I'm sure I've shared too much, but that's what I do. And it's not like this isn't stuff I wasn't planning on addressing. But not yet, not now. Anyway.

The most precious thing I have, the one thing that didn't leave me despite the fact I tried to kill it, is hope. I didn't know I'd be OK, I didn't know I'd get a pretty decent job, I didn't know I'd fall in love with an incredibly wonderful man. Somewhere, deep down, when I was in the thick of this, I hoped some of that would happen. I don't know when I knew I'd be OK. There was a lot of encouragement from a lot of people. I know the past three months have been easier because of Scott. Work helped a little bit too. Once I decided who I wanted to be, once I realized I was strong enough to move forward, things started to fall into place. Getting back into newspapers was a big help. Falling in love … I've mentioned before that I fought it. Not because of the person in question, but because I didn't want a rebound; I didn't want to hurt someone else, or be hurt myself. I wanted to fall in love for the right reasons, I didn't want to rush it. I didn't think I'd want to open up to someone, to let someone get close again. And here I am, tonight, trying to sort through an iTunes playlist chock full of mushy, girlie love songs to give to Scott. Heh. Maybe I'll get it done before Christmas. The point is, it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. And I'm so glad I took that chance, so glad I said those three little words one day in October. So grateful I didn't scare him off, so thrilled he loves me too. So thankful he's part of my life.

I have come a long way. I still have some things to work through, but not nearly as much as I did six months ago. I really am a different person. My perspective has changed a great deal, and I have a very clear idea of who and what is important to me right now. I'm career minded, sure, but to quote someone, I work to live, not live to work. My emotional, physical and spiritual well-being take precedence (well, I still don't eat that great, but I'm a journalist). I'm 180 degrees from where I was in June. And some day, I don't think I'll make such a big deal about these kinds of milestones. But I've let go enough to where it's OK for me to look back like this, to remember what I went through that first day. Yeah, I was in a very dark place for awhile. And I guess if I wasn't, there could be cause for worry. But I think it was a normal part of the healing process. I'm just lucky I don't have to interact with the ex; hell, I have no desire to do so. I think I mentioned somewhere (probably more than once) that he can take a flying fuck through a rolling doughnut. I just shrug now. The anger and the bitterness, well, I'm just that kind of person really, but they don't rule my life. I don't wish ill upon the ex (that often); frankly, I've got better things to worry about, more important people to expend the energy on. Maybe one day, we will be friends. But not today, not tomorrow. My life is better without him.

And you know, maybe this is the way things were supposed to work out. I'm incredibly happy, happier than I've ever been. Life isn't perfect, but it's my life. I do have the rest of my life to go, that rare second chance that I need to grab hold of and run with. I keep saying life is too short not to take chances. It hasn't been the easiest thing to live by, but the two big things — work and love — are going quite well. My other motto (for lack of a better word) about the best revenge is living well … the fact I'm as happy and in love as I am goes a long way toward that. But that's one where I'd like to see where I am in five years, and where the ex is. My money's still on me — not just because I don't want him to get the better of me, but because I *do* have hope, and because I know what I'm feeling in my heart. But that's another entry for another time.

Posted: Sat - December 18, 2004 at 03:50 AM