And words started coming back to me. I kept a lot of them in, which in and of itself is a miracle.
It so happened that the day before my divorce hearing was my 14th wedding anniversary. It took an astonishing scant 13 minutes for man to put asunder what I thought God had joined together. I'm not sure why I'm sharing that except, as Mr. Hemingway advised, I'm trying to write hard and clear. And that hurt.
Since it was such a long time coming, I think I was oddly disappointed that it didn't require more time. I filed on July 3rd. As of September 26th, a mere 2.75 months later...I'm divorced...just like that. I'm a divorcee. I'm not married. I'm a SWF. I will be filing taxes as head of household, single, 2 kids.
I've had time to adjust to this. Honestly, nothing really changed in my daily life or in my slowly emerging vision of what my future might look like. My boys have already started to adjust. I've started to move on. But I would be delusional if I said I didn't feel sad about it. It's still a loss, regardless of the varied emotions surrounding the process and the situation. It's still not the way I thought my life would unfold. It still hurts that it came to this.
I've already done a lot of grieving. I've cried and rationalized and argued and explained. I've written a lot and prayed a little and tried to imagine how I would feel and who I would be on this side of the signed paperwork. I've tried to keep my head above water and be present for my boys and I've even made some of the stereotypical interesting choices that people in this situation make.
And you know what...I'm ok. My boys are ok. I have friends, albeit not quite the same cast of characters as before. I've met new people. I don't have some sort of label on my head visibly listing my iniquities and warning off potential acquaintances. I'm still breathing. I'm employed and decently compensated. And my heart has ridiculously decided to wonder if perhaps, just maybe, this is not the end of its ability to participate in life.
Then last week there was another piece of news, the last piece of my former life falling away. It's hard to describe all the emotions - a little relief, a little vindication, a little confusion, a lot of sadness. I've scrutinized my reaction and I think it boils down to this: all the doors, windows, and gates that could have possibly reopened have not only shut but have blended back into the surroundings so as to be unidentifiable as possibilities. There's a clanging finality about it, louder than the judge's gavel, more definitive than the final paperwork, almost more heartbreaking than any of the preceding steps in the process. And while my life looks very different now, and "my former life" and "my former context" are frequently heard coming out of my mouth as I continue to move forward...I just have to acknowledge that it's weird....hard...sad...over.
And so...onward and upward...here's to whatever comes next...
