My life trips by on a sequence of “busy nothings” as Jane Austen would say. I’m busy trying to find a new apartment, busy with school, busy with work, busy with trying to keep my brain occupied and not think about K, the relationship that could have been but wasn’t.
I wonder sometimes if I am idealizing it. K was, after all, the first man who paid me any sort of attention, post-marriage to D. He was like an oasis in the desert, he showed me how special I was, and how not all men would take me for granted. It’s true that we clicked, in many ways — we shared many similar interests, we made each other laugh, we were certainly compatible in many ways. But it disturbs me how much I compare everyone to him these days.
I never went through a period where I compared anyone to D, because my relationship with him had already withered to the point of nonexistence by the time I was ready to shelve my marriage and proceed on. How does one compare prospective loves with a man who hasn’t been your love for some time? Although D and I just separated six months ago, and just filed for divorce in February (though we had to re-file in March), our relationship had been breaking down since September of 2011. It’s been so long since we were close, as husband and wife should be, that I can hardly remember what that life was like.
I had expected my interaction with K to feel…forced? Difficult? Guilt-ridden? And I experienced none of those emotions. I was like a child exposed to sunlight for the first time after playing in darkness for years. Like a flower that withered on the vine for eighteen months and is suddenly drenched in water. I felt alive, vibrant, special, vivacious…ready to take life by the horns again. For several days, I felt that liveliness…and then it was snatched away, and darkness fell again, though to be as dark as it was before. Potential was realized. If not with K, then with someone else.
I never thought it would be the friendship I missed. Someone calling me every night, asking how I’m doing, how my day went, what is happening with me. I wonder sometimes…did I let him go too easily? In a world where it took me so long to finally convince myself to let D go…did I cut ties with K, did I let him go, almost too quickly?
No time for second-guessing. This is life, you don’t get a re-do. I could call him, I suppose…but I promised I wouldn’t, that I’d give him the space he said he needed to work out his life. And it hasn’t even been a week yet. Would be a good way to look like a grade-A psycho!
No, it’s better to let silence speak for me. Focus on school, focus on work, focus on getting an apartment.
On living my life.
Exactly one year ago today, D told me he wanted a divorce.
And look how far I’ve come, what I’ve accomplished, since that day.