Rain

When you're at your wits end, when you feel like you've lost all the but the very last piece of who you are, when you're exhausted from the fighting, or from the not fighting, when you're tired for settling for less than you deserve, when you realize that your problems can't be worked out, when therapy won't work, then perhaps divorce sounds like the solution.

For me, it was.

The novelty of the past year has kept me moving forward. I've had so many changes this year that when asked what my New Years resolution was, I said, "To chill." So many of the changes have been positive. The growth that I've made as a person has been paramount, and I'm still learning. Parts of myself that had shut down are resurfacing and I welcome them back with the same surprised, happy squeal of joy I'd give an old friend who showed up on my doorstep.

Now that the newness is wearing off, I'm bare footing through life, feeling my way as I go, careful not to step on anything sharp, and I'm beginning to scowl at the rain that stings my face.

Nobody tells you that you lose your best friend. No one reminds you that you're giving up the good with the bad. The person that you went to with all your hopes, dreams, fears, embarrassments, bad days, good days, wins and losses will be gone. The person you laughed with, cried with, shared adventures with, shared animals with, fought with, made up with, counted on, was there for, all for eight years would be gone. I'm now beginning to understand what I gave up.

Regret is pointless. Regret is the lesser representation of more primary emotions, like sorrow or anger, and doesn't manifest without a strong inner critic. I am learning how to turn down the voice of my inner critic, and allow myself simply to have sorrow. The more that I let myself have it, the more capacity I have for it to be there without regret, and then to pass through me. I have more capacity to feel, and that makes me stronger.

Now I start over, and learn to become the person my husband was for me.