I’d be lying if I said that everything is going super smoothly with this transitional period in my life. Oh, to be sure, I’m actually much happier now that I’m out of that house/relationship/situation. I realize that I had a contribution in the decline…so I’m not saying it’s any one person’s fault. We both had a hand in the shift.
But what’s weird to me now is the context of things. I was a party for my former neighbor a couple weeks ago. And parked across the street from her house. It used to be our house. I heard her dog barking. Used to be my/our dog. Wednesday when I was at the chiropractor, I saw her car in the parking lot. It used to be…well….it was always in her name, but I used the vehicle when necessary.
Sorry if you read that on FB and thought that I actually saw her while I was out. I haven’t actually seen her since the day I got the last of my stuff (that I was taking) out of her house. I’ve seen her son a couple of times since. And that was a bit awkward. But I haven’t seen her. And I’m ok with that. Honestly. I don’t need/want/care to see her.
It’s funny to me how my mind has already classified most of that marriage in the same perspective as things that happened ‘years ago.’ The marriage ended in March. Four months ago. The process of making that final in the legal sense is still ongoing. And yet…it seems like such a long time ago. Seems like forever ago that I got the first email from her via Match.com. That I met her for the first time for lunch downtown. That first awkward hug. The first kiss.
The memories play out in my mind. And it’s like I don’t even know the people in them anymore. I still feel love for the person that I fell in love with. But…to be quite brutally honest…the woman I left was not the same woman I fell in love with. And I would hazard a guess that she could say the same of me (and rightfully so).
In one of my new favorite shows, “Luther,” there is a quote…I’ll paraphrase it… The great tragedy of marriage is that woman always think that men will change, but they don’t. Men think women won’t change, but they do.
And that’s really what happened. I think I mean….honestly I’m not quite ready for the post-mortem-overthink-it-to-death-to-see-where-shit-went-wrong phase yet.
I’m in a good place right now. I’m in Uptown Westerville. Making new friends. And things are going well on the job front. The bills are mostly manageable. And I’d say that life is good. Well, no. Life is. I am the one that’s good…or well…or some shit like that.
In other news…the knee is slower to recover than I want. I’m fully convinced that the lesson I’m supposed to learn from this is patience. Patience with myself. Patience with my current situation. Patience in general.
I suppose after nearly 42 years on the planet, there are worse things I could learn.
I feel good. The context shift is still a little weird. But it’s a good weird. And I’m weird. And I’m good with that.
Finding the silver linings every day. And that’s a fucking beautiful thing, man. Truly.
Alright…my tuna wrap is finished. I’ve devoured the carrots and hummus I had. And my bladder is telling me I’ve got one more thing to do before I get back to work. So…I better get on that. That call of nature is seldom one that likes to get a busy signal.