The tide rolls in, the tide rolls out - as we figure out what to do and how to proceed.
The odd euphoric calm that has come over each of us was unexpected. We're working better as a team than we have since the days of Emily's birth.
There are many things, in hindsight, always in hindsight, that were indicators that we would not be together forever.
My need for a nest, for a home, for roots...juxtaposed with his need to wander, to travel, to GO. Our oil and water combination could only be shaken so many times until we refused to merge.
My wait and see approach to the world next to his hypervigilance. My occasional retreats into the world of crazy and his baffled watching from outside my cave. My inability to bring what he found important to the forefront of my brain and his inability to give me the things I needed, even as he believed he WAS in fact giving me everything.
To me, the dishes could wait if a book was waiting to be read. The tub could stay funky for another day if the day was a good one to garden. The other things weren't as important as the now.
There were, of course, many other things that remain in our shared locked closet of the marriage.
They are not yet available for public consumption. I am not sure if they ever will be, and this is one of the reasons I am so sure that I can never know what goes on in anyone elses marriage.
And as I cried in the garden, sobbing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry that it didn't turn out the way we hoped"...and he held me patting my back soothing me, we try to spin the ending so that we can both pick up and move on as whole people. A bit bruised, but not broken.
I hope I will be able to write about something else - wish for it. I apologize to any of you who read this for being so one note and kind of fucking depressing. Pushing this out of my head I hope to make room for the other things, and helps to keep the fear at bay.