XI. Moments of Many Loves
We had reached open waters. All the darkness in which we dwelt, the problems that had transpired, seemed as though it were behind us. We set out with the wind on our backs and our face turned towards the new challenges ahead. We stood together.
This solidarity arrived in the wake from the implosion of another friend's relationship. It's interesting how the loss of another relationship can give you a sense of relief, a moment of re-commitment, and a renewed happiness. In that moment we reflected on our relationship, our choices, and our chances. We landed back on the subject of dating people. A conversation thread that we head started to thread into our relationship months ago.
Our opening of our relationship was not brought about in a moment of despair or to stay a coming storm. It felt like the maturation that was now capable because of the strength that we had forged. We armed ourselves with books that sought to help prepare for the journey ahead. We talked for hours each night, performed exercises, defined our comfort levels, and acknowledged our jealousy. We did a lot of work within a vacuum before we finally felt comfortable with giving it a launch.
The relationships that proceeded in the following months were unique and engaging for both of us. The details of each would be better addressed under their own premise so they each could be justly addressed and not simply appended here as a footnote.
To summarize: We both made mistakes. We both enjoyed ourselves. We both grew apart.
And ultimately we divorced.
She turned to me one day and told me that we were done. I weakly refused. She stated it again. I agreed.
What followed was a week in which our house became a funeral home, the body of our relationship laid out to view. The house seemed so quiet as we sought to remove the synonyms "honey" and "dear" from each other. We milled about, moving through our erratic emotional weather patterns. Melancholy would suddenly give way to a torrent of tears until our bodies went numb. Sometimes we find the other folded over, at the top of the stairs or in the children's beds, in tears. We would take each other arm-in-arm or sit side-by-side and thank each other for sharing our love and our lives. Peace would wash over us only to be lost again hours later.
One could attribute our choice as an unnecessary agitation, a leading cause, or the complete loss our relationship. To us it brought a neutral end to what could have continued to spiral out of control for years to come. Giving us a chance, momentary preparation, before we re-entered orbit and came hurtling back down to earth. We crashed. But we likely crashed with more intact than those fighting tooth and nail from the moment they moved out of the apex.
We had reached open waters. All the darkness in which we dwelt, the problems that had transpired, seemed as though it were behind us. We set out with the wind on our backs and our face turned towards the new challenges ahead. We stood together.
This solidarity arrived in the wake from the implosion of another friend's relationship. It's interesting how the loss of another relationship can give you a sense of relief, a moment of re-commitment, and a renewed happiness. In that moment we reflected on our relationship, our choices, and our chances. We landed back on the subject of dating people. A conversation thread that we head started to thread into our relationship months ago.
Our opening of our relationship was not brought about in a moment of despair or to stay a coming storm. It felt like the maturation that was now capable because of the strength that we had forged. We armed ourselves with books that sought to help prepare for the journey ahead. We talked for hours each night, performed exercises, defined our comfort levels, and acknowledged our jealousy. We did a lot of work within a vacuum before we finally felt comfortable with giving it a launch.
The relationships that proceeded in the following months were unique and engaging for both of us. The details of each would be better addressed under their own premise so they each could be justly addressed and not simply appended here as a footnote.
To summarize: We both made mistakes. We both enjoyed ourselves. We both grew apart.
And ultimately we divorced.
She turned to me one day and told me that we were done. I weakly refused. She stated it again. I agreed.
What followed was a week in which our house became a funeral home, the body of our relationship laid out to view. The house seemed so quiet as we sought to remove the synonyms "honey" and "dear" from each other. We milled about, moving through our erratic emotional weather patterns. Melancholy would suddenly give way to a torrent of tears until our bodies went numb. Sometimes we find the other folded over, at the top of the stairs or in the children's beds, in tears. We would take each other arm-in-arm or sit side-by-side and thank each other for sharing our love and our lives. Peace would wash over us only to be lost again hours later.
One could attribute our choice as an unnecessary agitation, a leading cause, or the complete loss our relationship. To us it brought a neutral end to what could have continued to spiral out of control for years to come. Giving us a chance, momentary preparation, before we re-entered orbit and came hurtling back down to earth. We crashed. But we likely crashed with more intact than those fighting tooth and nail from the moment they moved out of the apex.
As for tickets to the current saga, there is one less act, as I just got off the phone with Mono Boy. We chatted for 45 mins. and it felt as if I was speaking to the cardboard cutout version of him. I said that life is too short to be around people who aren't super double awesome.
Usually the antagonists and the foils are obvious to me and this time I'm not so sure.....