Blank blog. You taunt me.
I want to tell you everything. But everything is complicated. It would take a really long time to write. And I am easily overwhelmed.
This month is hard. My 13 year marriage is ending. We settled months ago. The negotiations for the end of the marriage took place in my lawyers office. You get married embracing each other in a room full of your family and friends. You get divorced in a building where they keep you in two separate rooms. Your lawyers, perfect strangers, run back and forth like mommy and daddy. "He wants her to stop sticking her tongue out." "Ok, she says she will if he gives her a lollipop and comes out of the corner." "Only if she gives him fried mozzarella on Wednesdays." and so on.
Now that we've been separated a year the ball is rolling to end something we never thought could end. The paperwork is coming through every day. My lawyer sends me something that says "your marriage is ending" and asks "do you agree?" I respond, "yes." We go on like that each day. It makes for anxiety. The ending of something that was sometimes wonderful, sometimes torturous.
My marriage flashes before my eyes much like your life supposedly does when it ends. There is the first kiss, that was preceded by him whispering "I can't take it." There was our first ridiculous year. I graduated high school, moved in with Jamie and some other roommates, our hearts were on fire, I got pregnant, we moved again-this time to our own place, got married, had a baby-Jamie smiled genuinely....and scene.
After the dust settled from that crazy first year, the rain poured down. We fought and screamed and cried and said the nastiest things we could think of. The wounds from that year were deep. Some of them still aren't healed.
We continued on. Often happy when the children were little. We were funny. He made me laugh. He didn't laugh much at my jokes, but I don't know why, because I'm totally funny. We had two more children. He smiled genuinely. We loved them so much. We wanted nothing more than to give them something we'd wanted. A whole family. And we wanted to not traumatize them.
We had three beautiful children. He worked. Sometimes I made him lunch. We always kissed goodbye. I often tried to get him to play hooky from work and stay with me. He always promised someday he would, but not today.
He was sad. I wanted to rescue him. Nothing I did worked or helped. I'm stupid for realizing so late that I couldn't rescue him. I'm now convinced that my trying to help only made things worse for him.
I stayed home with the kids. I tried to do everything. I didn't know how to be a stay at home mom. I tried so hard. I tried too hard. I did too much. I didn't take care of myself. I burnt out. I felt trapped.
We had ugly cycles. So many ugly horrible patterns. They were complicated. It was like an giant knot that is impossible to untangle because no one can even find the ends.
I remember Jamie lovingly and I remember Jamie with heartbreak and I remember Jamie with anger. But no matter, the Jamie chapter in my life is officially coming to a close. It's more of an act than a chapter. I've known him since I was 16. I couldn't let it end without saying something.
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