I don’t know why.
At night, after my girls drift off to sleep, I slide out from between their two warm bodies, slip out of my bedroom, and find a bit of space to sort through my thoughts about Matt leaving. I’ve been numb for months. But now that I’m starting to get a handle on my single-mom life, the parts of myself I’d shut off to survive are waking up, full of pain. And I’m tired. Of everything.
So many of us heartbroken people are restless, lost, and desperate. We want to feel something, anything besides the ache of being adrift. I don’t want to be an asteroid, hobbling through space, looking for a planet that needs a moon, or burning up in the orbit of another. I want my own fate. I want to own my fate. The weight of my pain should transform me into something new.
But how do I get there?
Often, I end up outside. I sit in the cold, on a plastic Adirondack chair, and look up, through the shadowed leaves of the apple tree into the night sky.
The stars are so far away, both in time and space. Each twinkle we see has traveled from a distant past, from where a star once was but has long since expired. Died. So many of those stars have long since burned up. We gaze on a graveyard of dead stars and the light they left behind.
So many of the ornaments we hang our imaginations on don’t even exist anymore. But they did. They shone while it was their time. And now we cherish them. They guide us.
I want to know how to turn my dead marriage into something beautiful. How do I show love in the midst of so much sorrow? How do I help my girls feel safe? How do I allow this heartache to set me on fire? How do I get to a place where I can feel all the depth of this pain without destroying myself? I’m not sure what my life will look like five years from now–much less five months–but all I can do is be true to who I am, and accept the truth that is in front of me.
I don’t know why. Not about any of it. But I hope that, someday, any light that comes out of this transformation might be a guidepost to others.
Beautiful, Erin! Raw and real and brave and beautiful. xo
Erin, I so understand what you are saying. I was there. It’s so incredibly painful, shockingly so. I understand not knowing how to get from here, to where you would like to be. I understand wanting your own strength…. I was there.
To be honest, it was kind of along process – for me at least. I had to just walk through the pain and keep moving forward. I was pretty resolute about wanting to build he life “I” wanted, not have one given to me, or be influenced by another adult human. I wanted to create what I loved and wanted….
And, it took time to heal. I knew I didn’t want a man. I most certainly didn’t want one attracted to the broken person I was at the time. I wanted to heal and feel healthy and strong again. I wanted to create. I wanted my boys to feel, “safe, secure and loved”. And, that part took awhile too. But, it did happen.
I lost pretty much everything at one point. Then, it all started coming back. And, one day, I realized that it was like everything was coming back full circle, I had second chances at everything. It was so odd. I thought the best parts of my life were behind me and my boys and I had to settle for the crumbs of the life we lost. I was in despair for a long time, for my boys as much as anything. I wanted to take their pain away.
I was so wrong about everything good being behind me though. Right now, many years later, I am happier than I have ever been in my entire life. And, I have so many wonderful things blossoming in my life. I have a thriving business. I’m launching another one. I am moving into a brand new home, one nobody has ever lived in before….in two months. My boys are both grown and graduated and self supporting and happy……
I stayed on my own for 7 years after my divorce. I loved it so much. I loved the peace. I loved the freedom. I loved building my life. I loved all of it. I wanted to be my own rescuer….and I did it. However, one day, when I was finally feeling healthy and strong and healed, I put it out there. “God, if you have anyone in mind for me, I may be open to it now….” That was 7 years after my divorce. I met someone within months of that, though… We were together for 5 years before we decided to get married…..I’ve been married 6 weeks now. It’s amazing, really. It’s all so good.
Walking through all that fear and pain made me feel totally invincible. I never worry. I don’t stress. I know, no matter what, I’ll be okay. Because, I lost it all at one time. I lived through all of my fears and came in a better place than before. I see how it was all necessary for me to become the best version of myself. So, nothing scares me because I know, no matter what, I’ll get through it and I’ll be okay.
Your comment breathed hope into my heart, for my future.