I got up early this am, went to the grocery store, where I was offered a wheelchair as I was coming in…hmm…what to make of that…I turned it down as I figured I would hold myself up with the shopping cart as I pushed it….besides I was making it a quick trip, I didn’t have to go up and down every aisle…I took boy # 2 with me and he loaded everything into the truck.
Got home and boy # 1 & # 3 unloaded and put everything away. I took a pain pill, turned my heating pad on, crawled into my PJ’s and got in bed.
Boy # 1 made breakfast and served me…by this point I had made it up and out of bed and relocated myself to my other squatter space, the couch…breakfast was very delish…chorizo and egg burrito, oh and I also had a pineapple empanada…and I shouldn’t even be thinking food, it’s making me hungry.
I then proceeded to scroll through my recorded selections…watched Gangland, Cleveland Show, some History channel show on Pearl Harbor, something else off A&E, an HBO documentary on immigration…pretty much all sorts of random stuff.
I went through a few pages of blogs and resurrected one from a while back, perhaps I should review my selections and alter them for content…or delete them. I have deleted hundreds of pages of writings…I’m hungry.
I have an appointment tomorrow to get my vision checked….I hope they are not running late….note to self, call and make sure they are on schedule…kids have no school tomorrow….
To the surprise of no one, they were doomed. I don’t propose to get into the whys and wherefores of it all. Suffice it to say that they both did unforgivable things (and I’m not referring to infidelity because there was none). While this isn’t the way either of them wanted it, I’m fairly certain that this is the way that it had to be. Of course, it’s quite a bit more complicated but that’s private too. Very sad but I guess that’s how it goes sometimes. ….
She was constantly surprised at how ordinary the things she found herself missing were. She was only beginning to understand how much of her life she was sleepwalking through and what a small and wasteful way that is to live. How it fades the potential out of you and those you love. ….
When he cleared his stuff out of the house about a week ago…she was at work at the time and came home to a place that looked quite a bit different than it had that morning. She wasn’t resentful and didn’t feel ripped off. It was just that a lot of the furniture was gone. In its place were the hordes of dust bunnies that had been breeding under the chairs and bookcases. I was appalled at what a shocking housekeeper she appeared to be…..
She didn’t miss the stuff — there are very few material things she couldn’t live without, rootless thing that she was. Still, she ambled around doing an offhand inventory, only mildly curious. But what was begun as an accounting of the possessions she’d lost soon became an examination of the empty places in her. It was an odd feeling to wander around the place trying to put a name to all the things she’d relinquished (willingly or otherwise), especially since what she gained remains hypothetical. ….
As she paced the suddenly empty rooms, she thought about how many irrevocable events she had experienced over the past three years and how fundamentally she had changed. She thought about her complicity. She had no idea what she was expecting to achieve but it seemed both necessary and cathartic. ….
Did she miss him? Of course she did. You can’t spend most of your days with someone and not automatically turn to share a comment with him. He was so necessary to her for so many years. ….
The thing is it got really baroque towards the end. She began to feel like she was on parole she hated it – she felt trapped and surveilled and became secretive and cautious around him, afraid to put a foot wrong. She was surly into the bargain, struggling as she was with having to be so tentative. This, predictably, led to resentment all around and they both behaved badly. ….
It’s taken her a while to work this out, but she thinks that his recent behavior said more about the situation than about the person. For the sake of her conscience, she hopes hers did too. What saddens her most is that (at least in the short term) their memories of each other were going to be bitter. She’s hoping that won’t last – she thinks they were worth more than that in the long run. ….
Still, this part of the process is hardly fun. Since they broke up, she can’t sleep later than 4 a.m. regardless of what time she goes to bed. She finds herself sitting on the edge of her bed in the wee hours unable to get out of her own head, watching music videos and infomercials for weight loss — depressed, restless, every synapse firing. Leaking memories all over the place….being unable to move because thought and grief and loss have become the same state of mind……..
Despite an overwhelming urge to wallow in self-pity, she continues trying to attend to the practicalities. She is trying to be good to herself by making sure she gets enough sleep but not too much, remembering to work out and keeping the house clean which she has to admit has recently become much easier. ….
Besides, this is one of those personal growth opportunities strange that they’re usually so unpleasant. Given that her coping strategies in the past have involved fleeing and denial, not doing either this time requires will and vigilance. Along with most of the rest of the world, her favorite route from A to B is down the Path of Least Resistance. She didn’t have that luxury now – this time the experience involves character on a defining level. How they disengage will say much about whom they are and will form the people they will become. ….
She learned much about herself, most of it not very heartwarming. She found out, for example, that she is a coward and can be breathtakingly selfish. She is adept at being expedient. She used to have an intrinsic softness, but it’s gone now and she suspects it was the best of her. These days, she does what she has to without flinching first. She knows she’s lost something she cannot afford to do without, but doesn’t have the insight or the courage to put a name to it. ….
She has become dangerously rational instead, everything is analyzed logically, and all of it is categorized. Arguments are dissected, risks considered, options identified. Much of this is second nature – the practice of life taught her how to create distance between herself and unbearable things, how to construct order and achieve resolution…how to cut her losses-in theory. ….
She is so paranoid about protecting whatever else she may have left to lose that she approaches everything warily. It’s exhausting. She is suspicious – she never used to be. She doesn’t particularly care for it, though she doesn’t know how to stop. She is not sure that right now is the best time to do without it anyway. ….
She is struggling to convince herself that there must be benedictions under the skin of the indictments that not all of this is about what she may have lost or abandoned. She needs to be able to quantify the cost of her freedom with absolute honesty. ….
She needs to make damn sure it was worth what she paid for it. ….