She was telling a story about some kids making out and how she grabbed her husband and kissed him.
Husband.
I miss that word being a part of my everyday vocabulary. It's such a wonderful word. "And this is my husband."
I don't mean I miss my ex-husband as a person. I miss that word, what it signifies. I miss how my hand looks with a wedding band and what that meant to me. I miss the constraints of commitment. I miss who I was as a married woman.
I loved being married. I loved the idea of changing and becoming with someone who remembered what I was before. I loved how who my husband was, influenced who I became. I loved how invincible I felt with another soul who held me up when I needed it. I loved that I was one half of a partnership.
I remember on my honeymoon, saying over and over, "This is my husband." and what a thrill it was. - Why doesn't it hurt to remember that? It makes me happy. Not happy in a "I'm in love with him still," sort of way, but happy in a "I remember when that was me," sort of way.
I was reading through my old journals the other night, going through all of the old junk of the last two years and the ugly raw pain that poured off of those pages was so awful. But as I read, I felt so much peace about where I am now, about the decisions I have made for myself and India and the end of my marriage. I feel healthy. I feel hopeful. I feel strong.
This sounds terribly trite, but I think I have earned the right to say it without apology - I would not go back to being the girl I was two years ago if I had the choice. I don't mean I would rather be who I am now than be married still, but that the pain has been worth the change in me. (That sounds awful. Do I really mean that?) I was such a kid. A kind, thinking, hopeful kid, but a kid. I'm ready to be an adult. There are so many things I had to let go of though, to be an adult. I could have stayed wounded forever (well actually, some days I do). It was so hard to let go. It felt like our love was of the rarest kind and that if I did let go, it would become something less - that I would become something less in admitting I could move on, could love someone else, could have a different life, then my love would become the garden variety type. But I have let go, in big chunks and little pieces bit by bit and it feels so good. Maybe I am just a daisy but I've always thought they were pretty anyways.
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6 comments:
I'm proud of you, for so many reasons. And I'm honoured to be amidst the sharing of your heart.
You've been through so much and leared so much, and I feel I have so much yet to learn. I am so glad that you feel at peace, or at least are learning to be at peace. What an incredibly grown-up place to arrive at. I am still blown away that we are all as old as we are. We're women! Wow. That still feels like a description to be attached to my mom and all her friends. But I feel glad that I am a woman amongst such good women friends who can add so much quality and character to my life. Thank you.
Jodi
uh, I meant learNed, no leared. That wouldn't be such a positive thing to say to someone. Sorry. : )
Jodi
India is screaming like a banshee as I type...thank you both. It's such a joy to be a part of this mutual sharing and learning from each other.
It is crazy how old we all are now. I have wrinkles and white hair and I love it! I really do. Not to say that I don't still take joy in dying my hair or in anti-wrinkle cream but I love this growing old(er) business. It feels good. It feels good to see I am surrounded by honest, kind, thoughtful and generous people. I'm excited to watch our lives and our becoming.
Sorry for intruding, but I happened upon your blog, and I just want to thank you for writing this entry. It is absolutely beautifully written, and it has made me so grateful and thankful for my husband. I know I take him (and our two little girls) for granted a lot of the time... sometimes I even wish to escape. But reading what you wrote made me remember the excitement and what he really means to me.
Thank you.
Anonymous,
You’re welcome - no intrusion at all. I'm glad it encouraged gratefulness in you. I often feel with my daughter that I want to escape too at times, and then something touches me and it's like I wake up to the beauty she is in my life.
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