I wish that I had been able to chronicle the events of the last month so that maybe someday I could look back on it and reflect, maybe allow for some extra processing, and not keep you guys in the lurch. But it has just been too intense. I simultaneously feel like each day goes by in blink and like each day is a long battle that has no end.
At some point I owe you all an explanation of what happened. Why my marriage failed. What went so horribly wrong. But right now I'm still too close to it. It's still too raw. The betrayal and anger are coloring my world too vividly right now. I need distance and a bit of perspective to be able to dissect it better. Please bare with me for a bit.
Logistically things are moving forward very quickly. I have filed the preliminary divorce paperwork. Mike has signed. Our home went on the market two weeks ago. By some miracle, we are already in escrow. If things continue to work as they should, my home will be occupied by its new owners within the next few weeks. The cogs are in motion.
A friend asked me a simple question the other day, "How are things going over there?" I used humor in an analogy. I told her that if a priest came to my door, he would immediately douse it in holy water because the evil energy is so palpable. I think a hefty dose of garlic might be in order too- you know, just in case. Sometimes you need to laugh in the face of pain. In a normal divorce (is there such a thing?) one or both people move out immediately. But due to finances, neither of us were able to do that. We have been, and continue to, live under the same roof. It is a hell I don't wish on anyone. My days are lived in dread of hearing that front door lock un-hitch and seeing Mike walk in.
I used to think this was the man I would live my life with forever. Love unconditionally. Be the father of my children. But now he has morphed into the man that makes my stomach lurch and feel the raw emotion of hatred. How is that even possible?
Last Sunday I went to breakfast with a good girlfriend of mine. We were supposed to go shopping but got too caught up in our migas and Bloody Marys on the beach. I had wanted to get some new Converse sneakers for the long road trip back east (my new landing spot), but it didn't happen. Toes in the sand, a bit of numbing alcohol, and the warm sun on our faces seemed too good to rip away from. No regrets; we had a wonderful, healing afternoon together. So much better than retail therapy.
But tonight as I stepped out to walk the dog, I was surprised to find a package on my doorstep. It wasn't something I ordered, but it had my name on it. Confused, I gingerly pried it open. The box contained a brand new pair of bright red Converse. I was immediately hit by a sense of overwhelming... love... friendship... compassion... understanding.
Kind of like the symbolic socks that Cristy sent me after my last miscarriage, I immediately knew that these were more than just new bad-ass new sneakers. These were a modern version of my own ruby reds. And they are going to take me home.
All I need to do now, is click my heels.