Missing Piece

We’re baaa-aaack. While the previous post two years ago was what I thought to be my final post here, I found myself wanting to come back and write again. We’re coming up on the six year anniversary of the divorce. It and her are well and truly no longer any part of my life. But the simple fact that I am sad and lonely does stretch back six years to the last long term relationship I had… so here we are posting again on the ol divorce blog.
It’s been a rough year. My mom died. My boss who I worked so closely and personally with for 7.5 years laid me off, blindsiding me over breakfast the week after the funeral. The girl I was dating, the realest thing I’ve had to the relationship I want, cut and ran. I got rejected from so many jobs. I endured seven months of unemployment. The job I got undercut me with the pay they promised. Somebody hit my car and knocked it out of commission for over a month. I cut my head and went to the ER. Unrelated, I got covid. SHEESH.

Sure lots of fun and good happened too, but this year I can’t help but let the bad overshadow the good for a change. Anyways, the point of this post is not to complain about 2023 but to share a poem. And I guess I’m writing all of this as context to where my mindset is. So without further ado…

Missing Piece

Six years later, here I still sit all alone.
Constantly checking for dating app notifications on my phone.

If I may say, in the years since,
I’ve become quite a prince!
I’ve traveled
I’ve made friends
I’ve found hobbies
I’ve gotten fit and strong
I’ve become a homeowner.
Yet still deep down I still feel like a loner.

I’ve struggled to find meaning in life
Without someone in the role of wife.

I want to be able to give my love and support
Each day, to cherish and court.

Life is good but something will always be missing
Without someone to always be kissing.

The night things ended
I said that in half, my self had been rended. 

I’ve since built myself back to be mostly complete
But as sad as it sounds
Until she is found
My quest for true happiness will end in defeat.

Watching Clouds

My ex spent most of our marriage complaining about being away from family. Yet when she left me, she stayed here. While I avoided going to her part of town and thus saw her only once in nearly four years, I’ll admit her continued presence was a small thorn in my recovery. While I felt fully moved on and rarely thought about her, I’ve been holding on to some resentment that she was still here.

This week I saw in an Instagram post from her place of business that she was headed back to Australia. Leaving the US for good. Yet my reaction surprised me; I thought I’d be doing cartwheels when this finally happened — she’s gone! I’m free! Yet here I am still feeling a bit somber a few days after learning the news. Why?

Is her departure simply dredging up old feelings of abandonment? Am I disappointed that she’ll now never see how well I’m doing, how I landed on my feet? How I’ve evolved and grown? Did I hope to be friends and have her back in my life in the future? Did I harbor some secret, subconscious hope that we would reunite? Was I using her continued presence as a crutch? Enjoying giving people the recommendation to go to her café for brunch but to “watch out for my ex, the tall Aussie” as a means of sharing a piece of myself? Or perhaps I’m just projecting my current general loneliness and frustrations with dating onto the last real relationship I had. I’ve been all up in my feels these days in general, have I simply added this to the mix?

Or, likely, bits and pieces of all of the above. It’s hard to tell. Emotions are complex. Making sense of the past is hard. But here I sit on a sunny summer Saturday on my back deck. Drinking iced coffee in the shade, listening to Corridor of Dreams by the Cleaners from Venus. Watching the clouds roll by in the blue sky and thinking about what was and what will not be.

—

I read a line in an essay recently that shook me. It was about appreciating beauty in the world. Reading this, it hit me that that’s one of the ways my worldview has shifted these last handful of years in my new single life. To notice the beautiful, the small treasures in life. The tiny flower by the side of the trail. The back side of the sunset. The friend who laughs with you. The emotions and feelings inside of you. Appreciate it, always. It’s all we have. This is how I have been viewing and interacting with the world. It’s not how I’ve always been. And I have her to thank for instilling this in me.

“One of the finest things we human beings ever do is to see the beautiful and keep it in our hearts”

Fin

I Saw Her

I saw her tonight for the first time since we divorced. Since she left our apartment through the back door over two years ago, in November in the rain. Papers signed, sealed and delivered. Final speeches made, final hugs given. I remember that night was even harder than the night she told me it was over.

I went to an event tonight knowing she might show up. It was a fundraiser for charity put on by my club, but for a cause that is more meaningful to her than to me. I had planned to leave after my shift was up, knowing she’d still be at work at that point and if she came it wouldn’t be until later. But I stayed. I’m not sure why. Maybe because it was time. Most likely just because I was having fun.

But in she walked, right around when I thought she might. My heart pounded. The bottom of my stomach fell out. I kind of hid in my booth to avoid making eye contact. I’d steal glances from time to time. She appeared the same, but with bangs. She walked past to get to the bathrooms and I steeled myself for eye contact but it didn’t come. She was avoiding me too…  The situation stabilized, my heart calmed down.

The rest of the night we stayed in our respective circles, and things were ok. I had to pass by her to go out back and went out of my way to say hi. “Hello” she said, in her accent that used to make me melt. I survived. Thought that was that and felt pretty good about it.

At the end of the night I was picking up the rest of the raffle prizes and she caught me. She came up and wanted to have a chat. It was weird. How strange to stand face to face with someone who you used to know (still know?) like the back of your hand, someone who was almost literally a part of you, and feel distance. A gulf between you, a gap. Awkwardness. Nearly like a stranger. A stranger who used to be you. Really weird.

We tripped over our words. “This is very odd.” “Extremely surreal.” “I thought about not coming.” “I don’t blame you, it’s for a good cause.” We commiserated a bit over the decision to come or not come. It was clear she was struggling as much as I was. Did I see tears? Eventually, “it’s nice to see you” she said, “I don’t know how you’ve been or how you’re doing, and I don’t need to know. But you looked you were laughing and having a good time. I’m glad to see you smiling.” I didn’t really know what to say after that and so I told her as much; something about “thank you for saying that. I’m not really sure what I want to say now, so maybe we leave it at that” and then I gracefully bowed out.

This was the conversation I had thought about for two years. At times in the past I thought that if we met I would break down and melt into a puddle. Other times I thought if we were to meet I would let her have a piece of mind, get angry and yell. Additional scenarios previously pondered included giving the cold shoulder, or talking to her but demonstrating just how great and well and wonderful I was without her. But none of that happened, really. We were just two adults, two old friends forced apart who happened to bump into each other. Cordial. Tentative. Respectful. I guess that’s a good thing. Was there more I wanted to say? More I should have said? A particular way I wanted her to feel? I don’t know. I still don’t know how I feel or how I want to feel. But I survived.

And I didn’t even think to hug her. That distance, man. Weird.

Taylor Street

Memories

Eating a sandwich in the corner of the kitchen, avoiding her while she sat on the couch
The unfamiliar routine of grocery shopping
Reading the Economist over dinner
Watching Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee on cold winter mornings with a hot bowl of oatmeal
Podcasts while cooking
Crying while washing dishes
Watching birds eat suet while washing dishes
Getting my first hummingbird
What’s Happening, Yo?
Crazy monstera leaves reaching reaching reaching
OKCupid
Sitting at the table watching the summer sun sparkle on the leaves – reading the Emily Dickinson Quote, “That it will never be lived again is what makes life so sweet”

Hiding under overhangs in the rain on the phone with family members, asking for help
Biking around in the spring and the whole world was a flower
The walk to Safeway. The cool kid house.
Colonel Summers Park
The run to Tabor and back
Strolls up 28th. Walking on the Coke side to better take in the twinkling 28th strip

Warm summer nights on a blanket, reading while the lights sway overhead
Wilted garlic
M&D IPA taste test
Becky charcuterie board picnic and the late night come down from treats day
Clearing out all the tall yellow weeds
Amazing pink rhododendron tree. Neighbors added streamers
Cultivating the grass patch. Manual aerating. Hose, sprinkler.
My single sprawling tomato plant
Misadventures in charcoal grilling

AB sleeping on the couch
Sitting on the couch hearing the words
Wilting on the ground as my heart was torn out
Running to the door to call her back
Tina picking up the pieces
Yoga With Cassandra
Birthday rager — beer pong in living room
Stretching, stretching, stretching. Glute exercises ad nauseam
Netflix. Snacks. Pistachios. Hummus. Cuties. Ben & Jerry’s after footy.
Falling asleep to NFL playoff games
Watching Carlton-Richmond Rd1 2018, spawning Footy Fridays
Sausage rolls and gift exchange with Brogan
Stepping into my apartment “for the first time” with Jonah and the other psychedelic delights of that day
Coloring book on the floor
Gemini Rising, flying over LA
The pet sitter — Gizmo, Riley, Oslo
Raccoon invaders
Tinder profile creation. Brought to you by sunsets on porches, Kygo, and Tina’s wedding
Building up my bookshelf
Visitors! Jamie x2, M&D, Chris, MCC, Jonah
Crazy Bumble-ina drinking an bottle of rosé after 6 jello shots out
Watching Apocalypse Now with Jonah
The Fire in the Lake/Ken Burns Vietnam companions
1999 night — N64 and pizza
Coming home to no one.
Dancing around in the dark with juuust enough light coming through the slats

AB taking a bath. Using the kettle to boil water?
Puking the morning after Stormbreaker
ICE BATH post Cascadia Cup
Brogan getting sick on NYE
Staring at myself in the mirror on acid
The cute B&W tile and blue/green paint that I just can’t seem to match

Crying on the bed, AB consoling but I could tell her heart wasn’t in it
Those incredibly empty first nights
Getting the call back from Mom — “Are you sick?”
Rearranging/decorating. Making it mine
The Civil War book in bed
The perfect hook for the philodendron
s-e-x
Procrastinating putting together new bed
Settling into rhythms with new neighbors
Smashing my fan in the dark during the last week. WHOOPS

Here’s to many more years of memories in the new place. I can only hope they’re as fulfilling as my time here.

2019 Recovery, In Review

I’m feeling a lot of feelings with the turning of the calendar to 2020.  Things have been happening, coincidental to the new year, that have me looking back to this blog as an outlet. There’s been action on the home front (I bought a house) and the dating front (had a tough experience), and with everyone putting up year–or decade–in review posts on social media I also have started thinking about what the last decade has meant to me. Long story short, there’s plenty of content for me to work with! Plus, as an easy new year’s resolution, I want to spend less time on my phone (usually Instagram and dating apps) and more time living. So at least for the near future writing here could be a good way to “do something” when idleness would otherwise pull me towards my phone.

The more pressing items on my mind are what happened recently with dating and with the home buying process, but being the linear thinker that I am I feel like I need to get the divorce coping stuff out of the way first since I had started thinking about that before the home and dating topics reared their head more recently.
————————-

2019, In Review
It was a good year. I had a lot of cool experiences and accomplished a lot. In terms of the divorce, I made big strides and as I sit here now it is good to realize that the other things going on in my life are the more pressing issues — the divorce is just not that troubling to me anymore. Looking back on my progress this year I can say that:

I am more content than ever. I’m comfortable with my life and how I’m leading it.

I feel and think less about her than ever, to the point that she/us rarely enters into my mind. Thinking back two years ago that was a daily if not hourly thing.

I don’t get sad about it anymore. And the anger has subsided. The anger I feel is more like a label — I’ll continue to be angry at her for a long time, maybe forever, but it’s not a visceral, emotional anger. It’s just a fact.

I feel the way I knew I’d feel eventually.
I’ll always have some melancholy, but I’m not sad.
I’ll always be resentful, but I’m not angry.
I’ll never know exactly what happened, or when, or why. I may never know exactly what the relationship was all for, or how I can neatly define it and tie it up in a bow. And it’s a new feeling to kind of be okay with that. I have striven hard to package it up and define it, but I feel a significantly less need to do that these days. I remember struggling earlier this year with what I would say/do if I ran into her, and although I still haven’t really figured it out, I just don’t dwell on that much anymore.

Generally I am more whole than ever. Over these past two years I have worked hard on processing what happened: reading books, journaling, talking with friends and family, writing down notes and musings on my phone, going to therapy, generally embracing the process and the feelings and seeing what I can learn or discover from it all. I think I am discovering that I can only fully enjoy life when sharing it with someone, but for now I am as whole as I can be as a single person and that is a nice realization.
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Now, to see how far I’ve come– the ever useful note dump, where I write down all the notes from my phone and delete them there:

Feb 19
What do I want help with?
a) knowing myself
b) defining and packaging up the past
c) figuring out the future (what I want, what I should do/look for, etc)

I accept it, but do I still need to come to terms with it?
I think I still feel like she made a mistake

Therapy: the unicorn effect — there was not any one thing I liked best about her. Did I like anything? Regardless, it was an unrealistic view and expectation of her.

She knew I wasn’t right for her. Perhaps she also was not right for me.
When dating, I should not be chasing the same feeling I had with her.
There is a new feeling or set of feelings to be experienced.
Or it is the same feeling but there will be more thoughtful decision making validating the feeling.
I may need ambition in a partner.
I was not in a committed relationship. All of the work I/we put in was underpinned by the fact that she didn’t believe in me or in us. It was one-sided. She did not believe her vows, and told me as such.

May 19
I think I am still grappling/coming to terms with the break up. I haven’t fully decoupled myself from that experience. Case in point I still don’t know how I would react or how I would react or even how I want to react when I inevitably cross paths with her again. I’ve been thinking about this for a year and a half and don’t yet have an answer, which I think is telling.

That love I felt for her… was it wrong? Rather, should I be looking for something different? All I know is that love, and it was nice. I “loved” her so much — I couldn’t get to sleep without snuggling or touching her. But it didn’t work out and turned out to be someone hollow according to her. Does that mean I’m wrong to be chasing a similar feeling?

Currently, I’m not really feeling anything on my dates. I don’t know if/when I’m supposed to feel a spark or a connection. The excitement I got from matching with Becca was a good reminder. But shouldn’t I feel that excitement after meeting someone in real life? If so, by what point in seeing someone are you supposed to feel that? I have mostly felt neutral after my dates, to date. But perhaps my thinking is unrealistic. Maybe the connection never happens right away. Or maybe I’m not actually giving these women and chance in some subconscious way bc I’m hung up on my prior love.
—
Need to emote the anger. Have not given the anger enough air. Focused instead on the sadness? And on the moving on/getting better/healing. But I’m stuck with this thing that I didn’t ask for and it’s ok to be angry about that.
I was abandoned. All humans struggle with lack of control.

On what I’m looking for in next partner:
*Chemistry = LT wedding weekend
Did BK and I have chemistry? Maybe. I liked her fiestiness and her go-getterness.. but her humor was weird and her stories bored me.
Strong willed is important. Someone who needs fixing is not. There was a little bit of neediness to BK in that regard.. always something going wrong for her to talk about. That was a turn off

June 19
On anger:
At the therapist last month I had difficulty expressing anger. I did not have difficulty expressing sadness, or recounting the events of the divorce. But when asked to express my anger I froze, and this reaction caught me off guard. Why did I freeze?
* Something about if I am mad about it, it means I am accepting that things in our relationship were not right? “Not right” = her narrative… which is at odd with mine: she flaked, we could have made it work
* I’ve come to suppress my anger after years of butting heads with her? My anger was a trigger for her. We got better at avoiding arguments; does this equate to me suppressing anger, even when I shouldn’t have? Was I not allowed to be myself and emote for myself??

Learnings from the book: People who have not yet dealt with their anger will completely agree with “I blame my former love partner for the ending of our relationship.” Those who have done sufficient rebuilding work to deal with their anger begin to realize that failure, blame, and responsibility are two-way streets. What happened was part of a complicated interaction that did not work, not the fault of any one person.
So — understand and come to terms with the anger and the full the picture will come into focus.
However — dealing with the anger also means understanding that it plays a role. In fact, it is beneficial and productive. Anger helps us to let go and become emotionally distant from the former partner. “People who are unable to express anger will prolong the letting-go process” — wow

July 19
Group therapy — Denial
I think I am in denial of the validity of her choice. The relationship has to work for both people and the fact of the matter is that it did not work for her. Key to understand that is no reflection on myself or my effort. It simply was not for *her*. I’m sure it was a difficult, frightening decision for her and one that she stewed over for a long time. “The container has to fit both people”. And if our container didn’t fit her, it’s a good thing she was brave enough to make the decision when she did rather than dragging it even further out, to the detriment of us both.
However… acceptance of the validity of her choice does not necessitate an agreement with the choice. I poured my heart and soul into the relationship. I will probably always feel bitter. I will probably always disagree with the decision because it was hers and not mine. I will always have some small slice of anger. And that’s ok. I can accept the validity of her choice while also thinking it was shitty at the same time.

2nd half of 2019 
I used to think about the relationship as a bookshelf, filled with books of memories and experiences of a life shared together. Now, I’ve realized it is life that is the bookshelf. And the relationship is but one book to file away with all my other memories and experiences. The trouble is that bookshelves don’t require labels; as a result there was no label on the relationship, it was just a vessel. But now the relationship needs a label be able to filed away on the bookshelf of life. It’s a book, and books need a title and a summary on the inside cover jacket. I don’t have these yet.
—
I can be both angry and moved on. They’re not mutually exclusive. I am angry at the choices she made and with her decisions. And that it didn’t work out. But I can also understand and accept that it happened and why it happened.
—
Will I ever feel the same deep love that I felt with her? It was like existential, fight for your life love. Probably because of all the striving for it, all the distance to overcome, all the hurdles, all the process, all the fighting and work to overcome that. It was like I-will-sacrifice-ANYTHING-for-you love. Again– existential. How can you possibly get there with someone new? With someone you don’t have this epic love story with? Contrast her and I’s story with someone you meet on Bumble. What do you fight for with that person?

Maybe though… maybe that definition of love is not the only one. In my mind, I think love is still tied to our relationship. I mean should I be writing “my former relationship” instead of “our relationship”? That right there may show the bond that is still felt in my head. I would like to be able to break that connection. Going back to something from above, I still think I haven’t been able to define it, slap a label on it, and thus haven’t been able to file it away, thereby unable to open myself up completely for new types of love. My brain is still wired to think of love as what I experienced previously and thus to look for that.

A thought from this weekend: have I been unable to make a connection with anyone I’ve been on a date with because subconsciously I think that finding a new love will undermine or devalue my past love experience?
—
Re the bookshelf metaphor — maybe on the bookshelf of life this relationship is not one book but many books?

Re not being sure about the feeling/love I want to chase — the feeling/love with her took years to build. Not going to feel that that right away with anyone so what to look for is a moot point.
——————————–

Wow, writing all those down after spending the time above to think about where I am now was useful. I can see the pieces slowly coming together. I think I have learned enough to say there will always be small pieces to deal with, but it is cool to compare my evolved current mindset to what I was thinking last year.

Anger Dump

Recently I told my therapist I have been struggling with de-coupling the past from my overall positive present. I want to put the past to bed; label it, stick it on the shelf of past experiences… but not exactly sure how. I’m struggling with this “labeling”. After some digging on her end, she discovered I still haven’t fully explored all the feelings from the split. Specifically: anger. I had no trouble recounting the events of the split and describing the sadness I felt. However, when she asked if was angry I struggled. While my answer was an easy “yes”, it was really hard to enunciate/expand on the anger. Upon reflection, my guess is that anger implies an acceptance of a mistake; an understanding that the relationship wasn’t right, and that I was complicit in some way (deciding to be together, pursuing in the first place, something like that). Regardless, she suggested I explore the anger a bit… to vent in some way. So, I bring you: the Anger Dump.

She let me down. She was not perfect for me. I poured my heart and soul into her and she told me it was not enough. That’s bullshit, man. I gave everything I knew how to give and she wanted more. With time, I could have given even more… but I was not given the chance.

I invested so much in her. Time. Money. Energy. Despite this, she walked. Even when she was telling me I wasn’t enough, I told her I would work on myself, I would try to be even better if only she would engage with me in therapy. I would do anything. It’s pretty debasing, in hindsight, and that’s pretty shitty.

She was constantly down. She had hopes and dreams that she wasn’t equipped to pursue. The inevitable failures upset her. The failures were inevitable only in that she didn’t try very hard, didn’t pursue in-depth. She half-assed everything and then would cry when it didn’t work out in her favor. As her loyal cheerleader, I would be there to catch her on the way down. I expended so much emotional energy boosting her back up, and then helping her come to a solution… solutions that were *never* followed up on.

Case in point (how to choose just one?):

Dance — she was a trained dancer. She wanted to be a professional dancer. To do pursue this career, you have to go through a grueling audition process. It helps to have connections, which requires endless networking. It’s a lot like trying to become an actor, which we all know takes years. She would lament the fact that she wasn’t succeeding as a dancer, while not putting in much time to pursue it. She would settle on an audition she wanted to do, then “cram” dance classes for the 2-3 weeks before it. Inevitably, she wouldn’t get a gig because she hadn’t been training year round like her competitors. Cue tears. Cue world is ending. Cue me consoling. Cue me lifting up. Rinse, repeat ad nauseam. Want me to put you in touch with my friend’s partner who works with like 30 dance groups in Chicago and has offered to put you in touch? Yes? Ok! Have you followed up with her yet? No? Ok, I’ll stop asking.

Art/stationary — she had talent as an artist. She wanted to make something of it. She liked the wedding industry. Settled on a wedding invitation “business” (spoiler alert — the business never eventuated). Spent weeks and weeks planning her move — endless conversations with me about what it would be. Step 1: start an Instagram page! Ok so how is this going to lead to your career? It will build your portfolio and then you plan to reach out friends offering your services? Great! Months later: hey, your page is looking really great, how are you feeling about it? Do you think it’s time to reach out to some friends? No? Ok, I’ll stop asking.

Yoga — now you’re interested in yoga? Great! What are your plans? You want to become a teacher? Great, here’s thousands of dollars for a yoga teacher training course. You want to practice on your free time? Sure, I’ll volunteer for that in my own free time! You want me to go to your trial class at the studio? Couldn’t be happier to do so! Congrats on graduating! What’s next? Cool, networking at other studios and putting up fliers for yoga in the park sounds like a great idea! Hey, how’s the networking and fliers going? Oh, haven’t started yet? Ok, I’ll stop asking.

Cue endless self-doubt. Cue anger at me for trying to help. Cue tears. Cue consoling.

Rinse.

Repeat.

Fuck

that

shit.

Not sure exactly where I will go from here but for now I’ll just see how it feels accepting and acknowledging the anger and her genera shittiness in this regard and see how I feel moving forward. At the least, it’s been helpful to realize that in my next partner I am looking for confidence and competence.

The End v2

It’s been one full trip around the sun
Since I started this humble blog.
Another trip has now begun,
And this time with far less fog.

Now that more than a year has gone by,
I no longer ask myself why.
No more wondering what could have been,
or taking my sadness out for another spin.

17 months after the fact,
The past doesn’t have me trapped.
I boldly embrace the future,
With all of my wounds sutured.

It’s strange to say but I’m happier now than before
And if she came back I wouldn’t accept an encore.
In fact, she no longer even crosses my mind
And in other endeavors, satisfaction I find.

2018 was a huge year.
Personal growth, confronting fear.
Embracing many a new experience.
And anything I find curious.

I’m running out of words
To express just how profoundly different I feel.
Just like a chick growing into a bird,
I have spread my wings and discovered that the sky is real.

—–
Day… who cares!

Data Dump

As I move past the one year mark, I am feeling more content and whole than ever. I will be deleting out all the old notes, thoughts, and near-blog-posts from the past year off my phone as a semi-final act of closure. I don’t need or want them anymore, but want to put them here a) for posterity and b) as an exercise in closure and seeing how far I’ve come.

So without further adieu or context…
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Future- scared about my timeline. I want a person but it’s going to be a long time. I can see my self having issues getting close to someone again… how can I ever “know”?

Now: need help processing emotions and what actually happened. What do I do next? Should I try to fight more? Push her to therapy? She was just so straightforward and FINAL. But I can’t help but have doubts due to what she said for her reason for the decision.. that it was because of me/what I said in therapy about not wanting to be in limbo. At the same time tho it’s hard to want to fight for someone who sees you crying on the floor and still leaves.

It’s just so weird. We have had problems but there has always been a committment and a will to learn and grow together. Suddenly the commitment is gone?
————————
Title: Ouch
I sat and cried on the floor
While she kindly said “I just need more”
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Mornings are the hardest
Brain is vulnerable
Mind is groggy, emotions are more raw.
Facing the fresh day- alone. The house is silent.
Get shit together, ready to go.. am reminded there will still be no one here when I get home. I am alone.
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Years of investment, getting to know someone. Knowing someone just as well as you know yourself. Then it’s gone?
We used to talk about how close we had become… how we had become one person.
Am I now half a person? No I am not.
But I don’t want to have to be one person by myself again. I never wanted that. Life was fuller when two people were one.. and I can’t help but feel empty. Feel the space in my heart, my mind, my home, my life, where my other half used to be. “My other half”.
———————–
On emotions: I have concerns when I feel okay at times.. I don’t want to/shouldn’t feel ok! But I also have to fight it when I cry and actively work to suppress sad thoughts… so I do want to feel ok?
It’s unsettling that I’m feeling okay now.

Other musings- there is some excitement here; I know there could be a better fit for me. At least someone who shares more interests at a topical level. I like being social so dating could be fun. But it just *really sucks* to have invested so much time into someone only to have to start over again. I can’t imagine doing it all over again
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I do my best to not think about her during the day
Bc every time I do
The tears come out and my composure goes away

But at night it’s a different story
(need a rhyme w story)
She’s in my dreams,
Good or bad
I inevitably wake up feeling sad
————————–
Regrets
We never truly clicked.. but we had commitment to figuring out how to make it work. This is fully on her for giving up that commitment.
How can not have regrets though? The period between when she told me she was questioning and the split. It sucks.

Maybe if I showered her in love it would have changed things. Maybe if I reached out instead of retreated… if I had never asked for space and she had thus never stayed elsewhere for a week. But at the same time, she had her chances. She never told me it would be okay. She would never commit to wanting to make us work. She showed compassion, but not commitment. So how could I have acted any differently?
I would have acted differently if I knew it was going to end like this. I wouldn’t have been as mopey during the 3.5 weeks, I would have tried to fight more.
But at the same time, she saw me struggling, she saw me cry, but that didn’t sway her. I doubt there was anything I could have done or said to change her mind.
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How can I not be angry? How can I not hate you?

I poured my heard and soul into this marriage. Into building us. Yes, it took me a little while to get going but I did. I worked hard and I made you, us, this relationship my center and my focal point. You think *I* didn’t doubt us? When things were crazy and we were fighting, you don’t think it never crossed my mind to look for someone better? It did, but I didn’t want that. I wanted to make US work, to figure out how we fit together.

And you, on the other hand, encounter a feeling of us not being right and what do you do? You stew on it for three weeks, you don’t allow me to engage with you on trying to fix it, you never go to the couples therapy we both agreed would be helpful.
You fucking ran away and tossed us out. Fuck you.

You never allowed me to work with you through the feelings; to view those feelings as our problem instead of your problem.
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I often have the visceral reaction of just shaking my head in disbelief. It’s been wearing me down.
Wake up sobbing
I will get little bursts of sadness. Little 30 second spasms of tears
Other times I’m fuming
Sometimes I am hopeful of the future and finding someone who’s a better fit for me
Most of the time I am drained and just want to sit quietly
More and more often I feel a sense of humongous surrealness. We are going through a divorce! A split your money, argue over your possessions, only happens to your uncle DIVORCE!
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Maybe I had that period of depression last year because of her. Now that she is gone I feel lighter. Everyday tasks seem important, and cooking and running errands give me a sense of accomplishment. Could be just that I did less of these activities w her around though. But generally I think there is a link. I have been spending more time with a friend who has a zest for life. He gets excited about trying a new beer, jazzed up about learning a new fact about current news, animated debating local politics, eager to hang out with friends. These are all things I also enjoy but did not get a chance to savor w her. She sat around a lot. She didn’t have a drive to figure out a career or vocation. Despite my pleading, she never really got excited about going to bars or restaurants. She preferred to sit at home on her computer. She preferred to day dream about the future and about fanciful trips, vacations, other countries to visit. But what about the hear and now? Why not embrace the moment, the place we live in? I am doing more of this now and it feels good.
Whether this is all true or not, I don’t know. But the lazy depression I felt in the past has been wiped away, at least for the moment.
———————-
Had a feeling for the first time today: it was a period of my life that is now over. It had a lot of good times. I learned a lot about love. I grew a lot. Sense of appreciate for the experience. And a look forward to the future. Not everything is linear. I will have a happy relationship, it just didn’t turn out to be this one.
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Spring has sprung
and not a moment too soon
Winter has been flung
And with it, all the doom and gloom

Time to turn over a new leaf
And let all your flowers bloom
Life is just too brief
To not find a new favorite tune

So enjoy….
–
What will summer bring?

New leaves are sprouting
and birds are singing.
New beginnings are shouting
Just wish I knew what they were bringing.
–
The birds are alive
And the trees in bloom

A long hard winter has passed
And with it the dreams of yesterday
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Day 402

Australia

My dream, my passion, my planned future is gone. And I’m not talking about my ex wife…
I’m talking about Straya. Oz. The land down under. Australia: my own personal promised land.

I have had a relationship with Australia even longer than with my ex. It started ten and a half years ago in February 2008 during my junior year of college as I set off on my first ever international trip. Seeming to follow the go big or go home mantra for trying new things (my first ever flight, the year before, was from the Midwest to Hawaii), my first international trip took me from Ohio on a 24+ hour voyage to Perth, Australia on the near exact opposite side of the globe for a study abroad semester through my college.

Sparing the details, I had an amazing time. Drank too much, studied too little, but bonded with new people over a shared experience in a new land. Started learning the basics of a new culture and widened my worldview. Probably typical of most American college students who go abroad, I came back from my time abroad in love with my host country and dying to go back. Senior year of college, while full of its own trials, tribulations, experiences, and memories, was also tinged with hints of nostalgia for Australia.

Lo and behold, lightning struck twice. Through a cultural program I participated in during study abroad, I was offered the opportunity to come back to Australia after graduation. The circumstances of my potential return seemed crazy; I would be going to a small country town in the middle of nowhere, playing Australian Rules Football with a local amateur team, and working in a grocery store on a 12 month visa. Little other details were provided other than I’d need to leave two days after graduation in order to make the timing work. Going to an academic-focused college, with friends accepting what seemed like big time, real world jobs, plus being someone who at the time was not a big risk taker, this all just seemed like a complete jump off the deep end. But I was directionless and Australia was my north star; the pull was strong.

That’s how I found myself moving out of my college apartment, unpacking and storing all my belongings in my childhood home, and re-packing two big ol rolling suitcases for a new adventure in Australia in 48 hours. Fulfilling my dream of returning almost exactly a year after I left.

I look back on the next year in Australia as one of the best in my life. It was a hugely formative experience; similar to my study abroad experience but on another level in that I was truly alone. I was a all by myself in a vast country, in a town of 2000 souls on the remote southern coast. Throughout my year I struggled with direction, finances, loneliness, and injury. But I fully immersed in a new culture. Picked up vital travel and independent living skills. Built the foundation for post-college life, beginning to put together who I was as an adult. Made countless fun memories, lived through crazy adventures and made absolute, ride-or-die friends for life along the way. I gained a deep appreciation for and understanding of Aussie culture. Their good-natured, kind-hearted, never-take-anything-too-seriously mindset resonated deeply with me and I felt home.

Needless to say, by the time my visa was running out a year later I was in no rush to leave. After six months down south, I had moved back up to Perth and had created a life for myself. I was established and, while still grinding to make ends meet, I felt settled and eager to continue exploring the city and Australian culture. I had friends, a job (several actually), a killer apartment with a balcony view of the ocean, and a new girlfriend. And while I can’t say everything was always rainbows and sunshine, my dream of living in Australia was my day to day experience. The very city I had romanticized post-study abroad was now my home! But laws are laws (let me tell you, Australia’s immigration laws are no joke) and it was time for me to go.

So for the second time in as many years, I found myself back in the American Midwest experiencing reverse culture shock and moping around wishing I was back in Australia. Except this time it was even worse because all my friends were now a year into adult careers and I was living at home with my parents, unemployed and directionless.

Fast forward several years and I had “made it”. I parlayed my limited work experience into several different gigs culminating in a good job at a tech company in Chicago. Throughout the journey from depressed unemployed kid living at home to tech-bro yuppie in the big city, Australia was always in the back of my mind. In lonely moments, I thought of my Aussie friends and all our fun memories. In tough patches at work, I thought of happy times from my Aussie jobs. In good times, I thought of my ex-girlfriend and how much I wanted to share the moment with her. Nostalgia for Australia was always right there under the surface, ready to bubble up in any quiet, undistracted moment. There was definitely a grass is always greener effect going on, but it was what it was.

Eventually these nostalgic feelings were given an outlet as communication with the old Aussie girlfriend mentioned above increased and blossomed into a real relationship. My love for Australia and Aussie culture now once again became a part of my day-to-day life. Over the next five years as my wife and I grew in our relationship, I learned more about Australia than I ever thought possible. I was also able to make three more trips to Perth to see friends and in-laws, totaling about a month and a half in total time.  I think it’s safe to say I became an honorary citizen. Or at least a cultural ambassador!

My wife and I agreed that we would end up in Australia. She could not be away from her family forever and let’s be honest, I preferred it there. Australia was the “settling down” point… when we’d have kids and buy a house and become real, live adults. While we wrangled over exact time frames, I was content that that my future was Aussie. The move was my goal post; everything I did at work and in my career was aimed at acquiring the necessary skills and job title that would make getting work in Australia feasible. Visa and immigration costs, as well as the general cost of starting from scratch in a different country, were never far from my mind and the chief savings goal (not a house, car, or retirement, to my later chagrin).

Then came the split. Relationship over. Dream destroyed. Future clouded. Due to restrictive immigration laws, it is impossible for me to immigrate to Australia without a “partner visa”. My nearly ten year involvement with the promised land was over. We were no more than 1-2 years away from making the move.

Over the past year I’ve grappled first and foremost with the sudden loss of my partner and best friend, my ex-wife, as detailed periodically in this blog. But I’ve also had to contend with the fact that the door on Australia has also shut, and that’s been a tough pill to swallow. In retrospect it’s a bit humorous but I’ve had to follow the same getting-out-of-a-relationship tropes with Australia, like unfollowing all Perth and Australia-centered Instagram accounts, taking down Australia related pictures and art from my apartment, and removing checking Perth news outlets online from my morning routine.

As with the break up with my ex, the past year has brought some closure on my break up with Australia. Or if not closure, acceptance. I am lucky to have made friends with some incredible Australian people. I’m a better person for the cross-cultural experiences. And I’ll always still have Australian Rules Football 🙂

Day 364

If you really want to go down a rabbit hole with me, check out my old combined post-grad and study abroad Australia blog here

Piano Face

Seven months after the fact

I still occasionally crack.

The tears well up in their usual place,

Remembering her delicate face.

My heart used to thump when I saw it:

When she played piano

When she was freshly showered

When she puttered around in her pajamas

When she concentrated hard on a puzzle.

Now I can barely remember her smile…

But that delicate face used to make me melt,

And it’s all I see as the tears are falling.

I don’t know why they continue to come calling.

I think it’s because she made my heart grow larger than it had ever been

And now all that extra space is empty, and I can’t say when it’ll be filled again.

Day 219