Since the ‘big change’, I’ve been constantly bombarded with comments about how I should reflect, do a lot of soul-searching, and find out if emptiness I may feel is a result of real longing for a partner or an incomplete self. And I listened to all the advice (even if it seemed at times that my mind was elsewhere). I’ve looked inside; in fact, I’ve been looking inside for a while now, and here are some of my reflections.
I think I’ve felt alone for a while now. That song or poem (I don’t quite remember which) with the line “1 is the loneliest number” obviously knew so little. 2 can be lonely too, contrary as it may sound. And so my constant fear of being alone has, in fact, been a reality for a while now, without me realizing it. At least, alone inside. Since I am obviously alive and kicking, even if, in the words of Meredith Grey, a little damaged, but still strong, and still able to see the silver lining and hope for rainbows, then I think I can actually manage being alone inside. As for the loneliness of being physically alone, well, that’s something I have to work on. I have my kids with me almost all the time so I am definitely not alone. I have my family and friends who I can see any time so I am definitely not alone. I just need to work on not having anyone to talk to at night, when I get home after a tiring day, with the desire to do nothing but talk about my day, or vent, or dream. But I can wait for this and in the meantime build that archive of stories to tell.
My kids are a part of me that I cannot imagine being without. It’s very difficult to even remember what it was like before them. I never want to be without them at the same time I do not want to be defined only by them. They are an ever-evolving product of my love, and a source of constant pride, but I am more than their mother. I am not just their mother. And I think, when they are older, they will appreciate this from me.
It may look like I am not ‘grieving’ my marriage, but the truth is, I’ve cried buckets and buckets of tears over it over the last months and during some months in between the years. It came to the point where my tear ducts refused to work anymore. And, while I will always love the father of my children in some way, shape, or form, I can tell now that my heart longs for more that he can give. At least, more than he can give me the way we both are now. People ask me if there is no hope to fix what was broken (pardon the pun), and I always say there should always be hope because we are married but there should also be a realistic recognition of the way things are as they stand today. And right now, both he and I appear to be better together now that we are apart. And sad as it is, the sadness need not necessarily extend inward. There is more relief than sadness in the knowledge that perhaps we can still be friends after all of this, an important thing since we have children. All these comments may make people believe that I am capable of turning my feelings on and off with the snap of a finger. On the contrary, it took a decade of togetherness to reach where we are now and the realizations I know today. So, a snap of a finger is far from the truth. But I am ready to move on to better things, whatever these might be and I am opening myself up to an infinite wealth of possibility. I truly believe that the Universe will give me what is meant for me- whether it be my husband but different and better, or someone else. And as Livi said once, the Universe will also give me exactly what I need right now.