There are times when I wish that David was consistently a dick but then I think back to all of the times when he was a complete dick and I realize it affects me just as much as when he’s not a dick – only in a different way. I look forward to the day that we no longer have reason to communicate – that we can delete each other’s numbers from each other’s phones and forget that we have it memorized. I look forward to a day that we no longer have cause to text back and forth. I look forward to a day when the mention of David will make me say, “Wow, I haven’t thought about him for awhile” and I’m certain he looks forward to a similar day in regards to me.
My infrequent vulnerable moments are typically triggered by communication with him be it short-lived or in-depth. I find that when he’s civil and polite, it makes me miss him. For example, shortly after the disturbing surprise phone call from his older brother on New Year’s Day, David reached out, apologizing on behalf of his brother for anything “offensive” that might have been said. I didn’t respond to this texted apology because I fleetingly felt warm, fuzzy and forgiving which was quickly followed by me rightfully questioning how easily it was for him to apologize for others’ wrongdoing but never mind all of the hell he put me through. And reminding myself of the hell I went through is exactly what I must consciously do in those times of longing, of missing.
That’s not to discount his sincerity. I obviously cannot speak for him but I’m sure he has similar feelings to my own and I know that he genuinely wants to keep things civil which is probably a hefty motivation behind his niceness. The truth is, I would rather him be courteous than be an asshole.
Perhaps it’s not David’s demeanor be it nice or not but the very fact of his existence that sends me into that familiar anxiety mode whenever I hear from him. I’ve always said that losing someone to death is slightly easier, for lack of better words, than losing someone to life because at least in death, you know where they went – or at least you know they’re not roaming around, conducting their lives without you. In life, divorces, break-ups, falling outs, what have you, we effectively become absolute strangers who happen to know each other’s deepest, darkest secrets yet we live the rest of our lives behaving, pretending as if we don’t.
All of David and I’s communication since we separated our living spaces back in October has been conducted via telephone or email. California law apparently prohibits any form of physical contact during a divorce hence the temporary restraining order that appeared amidst all of the divorce paperwork and the designated middleman that is my best friend. She retrieves and delivers various documents to both David and I and might I add, a stupid piece of paper has a governing prominence in my life yet again. Need I say, I do not take it very seriously – definitely not as seriously as I took my marriage and all I can think is, those poor trees! Marriages, divorces, restraining orders, oh my! – all a senseless waste of trees! Mother Nature should be pissed! Ha! – Oh, I’m probably going to offend someone with that one. I’m only trying to make a point and I’m only half kidding.
As I stated once before, I’ve moved on in every way except emotionally. I’m trying not to beat myself up for this but man, can I be one brutal son of a bitch when it comes to my heart! Rationally, I understand that expecting myself to be completely over the man I married, the person I vowed the rest of my life to, is a lot to expect. When not cognitively rational, it is difficult for me to accept that I can allow someone who is essentially, now, a complete stranger, move me to tears.
We’ve all heard the motivational speakers, i.e. the awesome friends in our lives who are “always” thinking rationally on the outside of our bubble – I’ve divided mine into the “David Haters” and the “Non-Haters.” Depending on the type of mood I’m in, I decide which side to consult.
Don’t you cry over that boy! He don’t deserve your tears, honey! He didn’t give a fuck so neither should you! Chin up, buttercup! Hang in there! He always loved you and I know he misses you, too. You’re doing the right thing! I know I’ve heard it all and the list goes on…
Finally, let me just share the real mind fuck of it all, the grand daddy of mind fucks – Sometimes, like the present moment, I’m thinking both rationally and irrationally therefore I’m flogging my pride for writing and sharing all of this even though I know that it’s a beneficial part of my healing. I don’t wish to be pitied or viewed as someone who is unhappy or perpetually lonely because that couldn’t be further from the truth but I lucidly understand that pride has no place in matters of the heart, of love. At the same time, I foolishly curse myself for boldly exhibiting my weaker side especially when a short blog post doesn’t even come near to sufficiently or accurately detailing the intricacies of almost four years’ worth of complicated emotions.