Stack of Boxes

I don’t have any married role models.  I have relationships I envy in certain ways, sure, but not necessarily for the status of their marriage license or the number after the “Happy” and before “Anniversary.”   I have marriages in my life that have lasted years and years, but that doesn’t mean they are my idea of a good marriage.  Even those I thought I envied turn out to be missing something crucial in my eyes.  But, of course, isn’t that the case with anything you think you are so jealous of. So I suppose I couldn’t tell you what makes a good marriage either, as it’s so different for everyone.  Hell, one of my favorite human beings, Dolly Parton, admits her relationship works because she doesn’t see her husband for weeks on end.  I’m sure that wouldn’t fly with most people.

Obviously I’m not most people, I’m me, and currently my marriage is sitting on that cliff in that convertible with Thelma & Louise trying to figure out if it’d be better to just keep going on our current path of certain death or turn around and find a road a little less “flammable.”

We married very very young.  Fresh out of high school and one year of college under my belt, I was on a mission to grow up and get things started in the direction due north from the area my life had been up to that point, or at least the people’s lives around me.  Being an overly anxious gal, I needed to get things in order quickly and efficiently as it was the first time I was in control and I wanted no more chaos thankyouverymuch.  So I found someone who made me laugh, who I could be my crude self with and who I could live with pretty harmoniously. He was easy to please and as long as either of us didn’t make too much of a fuss, we got along famously for a long time.  We then spent the next 10 years going here and there, having fun together and apart, mostly apart.  The apart thing though, that’s where I’m going here for those taking notes.

Now that we’ve had a child, well it certainly puts a damper on the “apart” time, doesn’t it?  All of those friends I would visit or hang out with to get what I didn’t have with my partner have to be put on hold due to taking care of my lil’ lady.  Before her I could see him when I wanted too and vice versa, and we certainly weren’t chained to the house and sharing huge responsibilities together.  We weren’t forced to rely on each other in ways we probably should have all along.  We’d piss each other off or let each other down and no big whoop, we’d just go out for a few hours and let off some steam.  Now though, we’re together a lot more and trying to work as a team to raise a child.  A team we never really got around to forming when we should have.

As I’ve aged in my married life, I’m now a huge believer in not putting all of your expectations on one person.  Even in friendships.  One person cannot possibly fulfill everything you need or want in life.  It’s not going to happen.  Thus the reason for girlfriends, work friends, that one guy that loves French films as much as you, but that you wouldn’t have anything in common with outside of the movie theater, the Starbucks barista you chat with every morning about music…you get my drift.  One person is not going to be everything you have ever wanted unless you are one of the most fortunate people on the planet.  That’s a lot to put on a guy, actually.  So my husband isn’t everything to me.  Just like I’m sure I’m not everything to him.  However, I think somewhere in the back of my heart I’d always hoped he would be and I sure drug him along hoping he’d figure that out.

When I got my prescription for medication to help with my depression the doctor warned “You may be forced to think clearly on subjects that you weren’t before.  Whether you want to or not.”  How true.

So we are separating.  Simple as that, yet the most complicated thing ever.  I asked for it and he agreed.  We haven’t fought, we haven’t screamed.  It’s been peaceful and we are communicating more than ever.  Hell, we still sleep next to each other in our bed until I move out at the end of the month.  Sadly, it’s like we took the pressure off of being married and now we can be what we were, great friends.

My anxiety is wanting me to plow through this, get my ducks in a row and keep going forward.  Pay the price for what you want and get it.  That sort of thing.  What I want to know ahead of time is how much exactly is it going to cost to have what I want?

I’m not scared of being alone.  I’m not fearful of those long nights in a dark house by myself or getting my own groceries or changing my own oil.  Though there is a difference between sadness and fear, fear I do not have.  Sadness weighs on my shoulders in a physical ache.

What I am absolutely terrified of is everything for my daughter.  The only sobbing I have done is when I consider how much she loves having both of us put her to bed, how much she loves when both of us read her stories or give her a bath or just in general be together as a family.  I remind myself even before the new arrangement, we didn’t do these things often and when we did there was an undercurrent of negativity and tension.  However, to her sweet little innocent eyes, it’s all of us loving her together and that will change at least logistically for her very soon.

I am eternally grateful that my husband & I agree to make her life the best we can, even if that means living next door to each other until she is 18 and putting in the effort we never could for each other.  But her life will still change in the next month, I know it to my bones as I pack my things for our new house.  I may end up picking her up from daycare now, instead of coming home to her and her father and fixing dinner.  She might not see me every day or him, even though that is our main goal.

I could only recently think that last thought without crying immediately.

What I hope to give her, whatever the outcome of this separation, is the knowledge that getting what you need out of life comes with a price, but it’s important and you are worth it to try and that she knows not even a drop less of the love she has felt all along.  Not a drop.

In fact, she is the one that taught me all of that.  Maybe one day, if she’s sitting on that cliff in that convertible, I can tell her way before she gets to the edge.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: