All day today my mind has been wrapped in the roller coaster that was 2011 in my life. Funny when you stop to play things back, the selfishness in you always wraps around what happened to you as a person over the last year. Then you think about local disasters, then national things, then worldly things, and if you haven’t put yourself into suicidal spiral at that point you dare to think about the polar bears and melting ice caps. But whoever gets that far.

2011 started off with me looking for somewhere to live because after 5 years my marriage had failed me and we needed, “space.” I bought a car. I bought a house. I had to become financially independent, which was a terrifying task for me when you consider how I burn through cash like it’s toilet paper… never realizing I am out until the last of it’s gone. But I did it.

I started a blog. I started putting all the muddled contents of my head out on paper for the world to see. Many called me crazy to keep a live online journal that so blatantly stated the truths in my life. But it helped me, and as I have heard from so many… reading the junk in my head actually helps others to not feel alone… which in turn makes me not feel so damn lonely either.

I went rock climbing for the first time. I taught my daughters how to shoot a gun. I called my grandmother on her birthday and told her that in the fall I was going to take her to Italy. Then I realized that I was going to have to save a small fortune in a nine month period. I went to Las Vegas pretty much on a whim. I turned 30. I went hang gliding.

Our time apart was torturous yet I was trying so desperately to figure out who and what I am. I missed him. In June, we decided that apart just wasn’t an option. We made a deal. He wrote his own vows. He cried when he read them to me. I had the little beach wedding I had always wanted, complete with stunning dress.

We rode the motorcycle to a Zac Brown concert. We went to Chattanooga. We went to the first Kentucky NASCAR race. We held hands, and kissed in public and we were content. Then as if the breeze blew summer to an end… the girls returned from their dad’s house, school started, soccer started… life kept going. We didn’t. Something glitched. The promises, they just melted. How does a promise do such a thing you may wonder? I know I wonder.

October came and I did take my Grandmother to Italy. I stared as if I didn’t believe I was really there… in wonder at all there was to see. We met great people. We ate great food. (My mom went  as well). We saw things that people dream of seeing their whole lives. It was majestic.

But the fighting and bickering and squabbling of early fall had been too much, and when I was gone… he didn’t miss me. There’s nothing worse than the solid truth of not being missed, when it hits you in the face like a baseball bat. He had found a house to move into. This was really happening… again.

As he moved out… I braced myself… but I couldn’t allow it to be the end of us. Why is every thing so temporary? I don’t want temporary. I want permanent. 6 years is but just a moment in time… I want forever. I want what we vowed just a few months back when we renewed our vows. But it didn’t come. Instead came the cruel smack in the face of hard truth. I wasn’t ready for it. I couldn’t believe it.

But then as if the reality had hit him too, it became almost impossible to let go of each other… then I had a major surgery, and he was there… feeding me through a syringe and making sure I needed for nothing. Bringing me home from the hospital and checking on me every ten minutes. But I am healing now, and he’s returned to his house. As I sit here… in my living room, the girls at their dad’s house in Colorado… I wonder. What is it I am supposed to do. I’m alone again. And the sand pouring through the hour-glass is echoing in my mind.

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