Life sometimes waits to begin until after tragedy. Tragedy is a hard word to use for a divorce when there are so many larger tragedies in the world. But also because the tragedy of a divorce revealed so many smaller shames, insecurities, and failures that seem so much more complex than just a single event. Divorce is a long, drawn out process of pain, regret, self exploration, sadness, anger, self blame, finger pointing, acceptance, desperation, and so much more.
It started as love, but looking back was it? I loved him with a fierceness that more closely resembled insanity than happiness. When you look toward a man to fill such a large hole inside yourself, it just creates constant disappointment that inevitably turns into resentment. Each one more deep and painful than the next. Such a vicious cycle. And I didn't realize how it equally hurt him. He didn't deserve it.
But he wasn't innocent either. As the victim of abuse, and a life long struggle to keep it deeply hidden from everyone; he did not have the ability to love someone with the vulnerability that love requires. And neither did I.
I want to remember the happy memories and forget the sad ones. But then the happy ones become sad ones. Do you let it all go, or own that part of your life and acknowledge what part of you it contributed to today?
I don't know where I am going with this blog. My brain is always picking up small pieces of my life, turning it into a large volcanic chunk of rock, inspecting each and ever crevice. Although it rarely results in an insight that improves my life. Maybe .0001% of the time.
So here I go.
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