I want to write, I really do. But I have a confluence of messed up things keeping from writing.
I have spent a lot of time crying lately. It’s something about letting down your walls, becoming entirely vulnerable and fully open only to have someone shatter you.
You see, we were trying, one last time. My ex and I. We were giving it one more shot. I had some issues. I was concerned about those issues. And we got into a fight about those issues. And he did something he’d never done before. And at that moment… the walls came down. All boxes open. The grief and vulnerability over the dead husband. The intense love of the live man in front of me. All open. And in the middle of a sentence… he got up and left.
And in that moment… my heart shattered.
All the boxes that had been opened.. every one of them suddenly jumbled together.
So now… for the past week… I have been actively grieving again.
Grieving over the loss of the man I was supposed to spend my life with, until he died.
Grieving over the loss of the man I was hoping to spend my life with, until he walked out.
Grieving the loss of a future I’d planned for 14 years, until he died.
Grieving the loss of a future I’d hoped for with the man I moved 8 hours to be with, until he walked out.
For him – there’s a whole lotta reasons why we didn’t work.
For me – it came down to one. And he walked out when I mentioned the dead guy’s name.
So for the past week, I’ve been actively grieving. I have been watching Grey’s Anatomy on a marathon basis. And bawling my face off. Denny died. Kathryn Heigl did an amazing job of portraying a grieving widow. I bawled. Other people died. Other people got hurt. Major characters went through transformative, emotional moments.
And I bawled.
It’s easy to say that I’m crying over the show, but in truth, I’m grieving. I’m back in the place I was shortly after Mark died… all of it due to me dropping my walls far enough and completely enough for him to walk out and shatter me.
And he has no idea.
I haven’t told him.
The closest I’ve come is when he texted me something and I mentioned that I was struggling and I really couldn’t do this at this time.
But he has no idea how much I’m hurting.
Grieving again… it sucks. I am the queen of disassociation. I am good at putting things in boxes. I am amazing at compartmentalizing and not letting the different parts of my life touch.
Until it overwhelms me.
Until the boxes open.
Until everything is all mixed up, jumbled up, and I’m grieving again.
I really really really want to be looked at like my husband looked at me. Like Derek Shepherd looks at Meridith Grey. I really really want that again… but in the meantime… I’m grieving.