What a bummer...
I'm bummed today. I'm not ashamed to admit that, but I think many of us usually feel shame on this topic. It implies that we don't have everything figured out. It makes it seem like our lives are somehow less perfect and less valid.
I'm bummed because this time alone has actually been heaven. When I started almost six weeks ago, in the back of my mind I half-hoped that I would be miserable so I could ask my husband to move back in. Then we could fix things and continue with our "happily ever after". I've loved being married, it has been the most meaningful experience of my life. However, this separation has started to reacquaint me with who I really am deep down and I didn't realize I missed that person so much. I also hadn't realized how much that person has changed over the years and that I really like who I've become.
In this time I haven't been stationary. I haven't moped; I haven't locked myself away deep in thought. Instead, I've used it to begin to create a new life for myself. I've put time into important friendships, I've invested in my hobbies, I've shared so many laughs and so much love with the people I've chosen to surround myself with. I have also put distance between myself and friendships that haven't felt healthy for me. I've stopped trying to like things that actually bore me to tears. I've stopped exposing myself to things that make me sad or weak or just less joyful than I want to be (I'm looking at you, true crime podcasts). Sure, some of these things have their upsides and their merit. They might be thought-provoking or they might be a shared interest to bring me closer to someone I value, but I know I need to be gentle with myself right now.
Protecting and nurturing myself in this way has helped me start to heal, but I still get bummed sometimes. Today I feel a deep sadness that I know I will have to say goodbye to the man who has been my partner and constant companion for almost a decade. I've spent so long building my life around him and I have to find a way to tell him it's over for me, that I can't find a way to make it work. I have to figure out the words to say it can't be fixed. I know this will hurt him more deeply than he ever has been before and at this moment I can't bear the thought of seeing that in his eyes.
When I had this realization, I asked myself if it's possible that I'm going to be throwing away long-term happiness for short-term joy. My gut told me almost as quickly as I formed the question that I can't imagine growing old with him and being happy with that anymore. He's a bit of a tortured soul and I know that in part it's my fault, but regardless, I'd like to think I deserve a partner who is happy. I want to find someone who doesn't need me to be happy, someone who comes to me complete already, someone who finds that my presence in their life makes them MORE happy, but who doesn't depend on only me to provide light in their life. Ten years is long enough to play live-in therapist.
And yet, I'm overwhelmed with heartache to be closing this chapter of my life. This man has meant so much to me for so long. At times I leaned on him just as heavily as he leaned on me, I'm sure. This may surprise some people, but he taught me how to be an adult in a lot of ways. He taught me how to cook, how to maintain my car, hell he taught me how to keep the apartment clean (I was a bit of a mess in my early twenties - I hope some of you can relate. No? Just me? Oh, well). Together we learned how to get by in life after college and there's a part of me that is terrified of venturing out into this big scary world without him. But that's just it, he has become my security blanket and, as callous as it may sound to admit this, I've outgrown him. I need to say goodbye to this idea of a safe but sad life.
It's in these moments that I kick myself for not letting go earlier. I look back and see a sea of red flags and moments where I should have cut and run. I also worry that I'll let myself fall into the same situation over again, that I won't have learned anything. As well, I fear that I'll be hurting him for nothing, that when all is said and done I will look back and wish I had tried harder to make it work.
Today I am heartbroken and scared and grieving for the life I made with such care and devotion.
I'm bummed today, and it's okay. They say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and so I'll keep my eyes forward, writing this shiny new chapter with hopefulness and just as much care and devotion as I poured into the last one.