During the past few days I’ve had quite a few ups and downs.
I am so, so thankful for the ups. My middle daughter made us a delicious supper and we ate as a family…making plans for our future together. I went for a long walk, outside, and enjoyed the fresh (and finally warmer) air. My oldest daughter is playing a game with her senior class where you are given a target and you have to try to get them wet with a squirt gun (or cup of water or something) before the person who has you as a target gets you. We’ve had a ton of fun trying to figure out where her target is going to be and protecting her from getting wet. My son is finally opening up and telling me about his feelings. He has some very profound ideas about what is going on.
My downs come in pin pricks during the ups sometimes. I think, “How is it that I’m even here trying to make a plan for our future without him?” or “We used to have so much fun walking along this path together.” or “Wow. He would have loved making a plan to hit her target.” or “How mature my babies are now…it’s so unfair.”
And I think the downs are more profound because I was so unexpectedly happy last week. (I was silly to assume that I would continue to feel that way…not because I won’t eventually, but right now, I know it’s part of the cycle.) My recent downs feel worse for knowing what the happiness feels like. It had been so long I literally forgot what it felt like.
And now I want it back.
I want to be done with the tears. Done with the feeling of rejection. Done with caring what he’s doing.
I want to move. on.
Everything I see and read says that I should sit in this now and feel it now so that I can heal now and not later.
And I have been sitting. And I do believe I have been healing.
But, don’t I get a say in when enough is enough?
Why can’t I just tell my brain and my heart to sync up and get going?
Is that so much to ask?
The quagmire I keep coming back to is why.
Not why did this happen. I’m pretty sure I will never have the answer to that one.
No, my why question is on the manner in which this went down.
Why couldn’t it have been the “normal” way? Say, “I want a divorce.” then get out. Don’t drag it on for months and months and months giving me and the children hope. Don’t make us think there is a chance.
It don’t know for certain, but I think I would have been able to recover from that a lot easier.
Think of a kid who says, “I don’t want to play with this toy anymore; however, I’m going to break it into a million pieces and crush it until it’s unrecognizable so no one else can ever put it back together again and play with it either. I’m going to destroy everything I see since I don’t want it anymore. And then I’m going to say I didn’t do it when someone asks me.”
I feel like that toy.
And I’m sick of it.
This is not what I want. I didn’t choose this. And now I have to deal with this and fix it.
And it sucks.
But I’m holding on to this: I want to heal and that is greater than anything else.
And I refuse to let it go.
Because, right now, that is my greatest desire.
I want a healed heart desperately.
And, I’m not going to stop until I get one.