"Nothing Gold Can Stay"

“I’m sorry that it had to come to this.” --February 2, 2010

That was the single text and only explanation that I have ever received from my now ex-husband on the night that he left me for someone else.  As soon as I had read those words, I knew that my life was about to change forever.  Everything that I had ever known and depended on in my life was on the very brink of alteration—all through the simple transmission of those nine heart-breaking words.  

As soon as I laid my eyes on my phone screen, I collapsed into the fetal position on my floor—out of breath and in complete shock.  Even at that point, I knew it was over.  Once I regained enough energy to speak, I let out a wail of grief and hate toward him and everything good that I thought he once stood for.  At that moment, I hated him and everything about him for what he was about to put myself, our families, and especially our son through.  I full-heartedly admit that I was not the best wife, mother, or person ever—but, who really is???  Regardless of what he thought about me or our relationship; I at least thought that I deserved to know why and how it had all fallen apart.  Yet, to this very day, I still remain without any answer at all.

Whether it was ultimately for the best or the worst that the reasons behind my divorce were never divulged to me—knowing myself and what all has happened in my life, up to this point, I am somewhat guessing that everything had happened exactly the way that it needed to.  Oddly enough, I quickly learned to accept the fact that I would most likely never find out the why or the how behind the dissolution of my marriage—one of the biggest changes of my life.  Whether it was due to the difficult legal circumstances surrounding our separation or the hurt in my heart toward him and the entire situation that had so quickly unfolded; I, somehow in some way, was (and still am) absolutely fine with not knowing one detail at all about what had happened to my husband prior to that fateful night.

Ever since the heart-breaking text was sent to me, I have been on an odd (and at times, very painful) journey of learning how to deal with and accept change. 

Everything changes.  Nothing gold can stay.  The only sure thing that we can count on being the same in life—is that nothing ever stays the same.  Both good and bad come and go—regardless of what we want and/or need. 

Of course, I have always heard the mantras of “change”—we all have.  Yet, I had never before experienced so much change in my life and in such a short period of time, prior to receiving my ex-husband’s infamous text.  Although in the past, I had somewhat of a fear of change—my latest life experiences have gradually revealed to me that fearing change only makes change, and life itself, worse off.  Change is inevitable.  And it will happen whether we want it to or not.  Situations change…people change…places change…ideas change—life changes.  And really, the only way to overcome change is to accept it. Nothing more and nothing less.

Since the “text of change” was sent to me, I have had several different waves of situations, people/relationships and ideas cycle in and out of my life.  Initially, I had become relatively upset when certain people would exit my life or specific life situations either began or ended.  Something in my life would quickly change and I would ultimately lose it and breakdown from the effects of yet another “loss” in my life.  I would be so devastated at times that the only thing I thought I could do to escape the pain of the losses would be to turn to unhealthy and unneeded self-destructive habits.  So, as the “cycle” went: change set in, I was emotionally destroyed (yet again), and additional self-destruction followed until some other suitable “wave of interest” came my way.  Then with time, the cycle would commence, like before.

This unhealthy way of life and fear of change was a continuous cycle for me…up until lately when I began to stop, think and realize (through the help of some great people, books, and self-reflection) that change is actually what makes life as awesomely great (and/or incredibly horrible) as it is!  And no matter how I feel about change or what I do to cope with it or avoid it—it is still going to happen. 

After so many heartbreaks, pain, frustrations, embarrassing situations, and the initial text that began the ultimate change of all changes in my life—I am finally beginning to change my perspective on actual change, itself.  As a result, I am thankfully beginning to actually “change” myself.  Fortunately, the cyclical waves of situations, people/relationships, and ideas that have been coming and going in my life, as of late, are actually beginning to become more bearable each time they make both their entrances and exits. 

As weird as it may sound, I am now starting to see the coming and going of change as more of a blessing than a loss.  Through change, I am actually learning how to appreciate the actual “objects” (i.e., situations, people/relationships, ideas…) and experiences involved in the changes—both while I am in the actual moment, as well as when the “object” is removed from my life (whether it’s a temporary or a permanent removal).  Change has really started to become such an extraordinary teacher and friend to me; and because of this, I am often quite moved by the realization that all of this actual change within me and in my life ultimately originated from the life-changing text that initially broke my heart and took my breath away. 

The words in the “text of change” have been forever engrained into both my mind and heart in so many ways and for so many reasons.  The short nine-word text that had initially left me with no answers behind the why or how of my divorce—fortunately, also helped to provide several unfortunate circumstances and vital unanswered questions which gradually allowed “change” to make its proper place in my life. 

So, today my reply to the text, “I’m sorry that it had to come to this.”—would just simply be, “Thank you.”

Straddling the Fence

Lately I have felt as if I don’t really belong anywhere, in particular.  Almost as if I am constantly just straddling the fence of life among the many different groups of friends, acquaintances, family members, and “life titles/roles.”  I just don’t seem to “fit in” with one particular group of people at all. 

When I hang out with married friends I feel like the odd one out because I am divorced.  With my young, single friends I am the one with a child.  When I was in school, I was the one who had already graduated and who was there “just for fun.”  At work, I am seen as one of the “supervisors,” so not really trusted whole-heartedly.  And in my family, I am just seen as unsettled and confused.  Everywhere and anywhere I go, I am never “one of them”—I am always the “other.”

This past weekend, I went to a birthday party for one of my sister’s friends and seemed to initially “blend in” with the crowd.  I have known many of her friends for several years now; so most of the time, I can usually feel pretty comfortable with them during a night out.  However, once the effects of the alcohol subsided, I then began to feel that all too common “out of place” tinge of uneasiness again.  And as I looked around my surroundings, I started to question my motives of why I was even there to begin with. 

Even though I hadn’t really spent much time with my sister and her old friends in quite a while; in my heart, I knew that I was in the wrong place.  I felt that I should have been at home with my son instead.  Yes, it was the middle of the night and yes he was asleep when I left him with my mother that night anyway; however, I only seem to feel that true sense of belonging when I am with him.  When I am apart from the light of my life—that is when I feel the least like myself and most out of place. 

But, oddly enough, this feeling of inadequacy in groups is actually a feeling that I have had for quite a while now; and it has always seemed to present itself in some way or another in my past, as well.  It only seems that now—most likely due to some of the awkward situations I’ve encountered—that I have become more aware of it. 

However, even in “out of place” moments, I still seem to find a way to make do and find common ground with whichever group I am a part of at the time.  And it is then in those moments—when I am truly not in my element and still relatable to many—that I begin to question whether or not I am really the only one who is feeling inadequate among the others.  I know I am not a shy person and I usually do quite well at “faking it” and getting along with many people of different backgrounds; so, it really does boggle my mind when I actually sit down and think about how many other people are actually “faking it,” as well. 

The fact that so many of us so often feel out of place, but still choose to go with the flow of the crowd and act like we all belong is such a weird habit of human nature.  I know that we were all created to look for like-minded people and groups in which we find similar interests and dislikes. Yet, when it really comes down to it, how many of us are really just pretending to be someone else in order to “fit in” with one group or another?  How many people are unwillingly, yet freely, choosing to give up all that they really believe in just to make a few other people think differently of them?  How many of us are missing out on our true happiness because we are far too often preoccupied with making unimportant situations better and worthless people temporarily satisfied, instead?

Through several heart-to-hearts with some genuinely honest people, I have fortunately learned that I am not alone in this “out of place” feeling.  In a way, I think that we all have many situations in which we never truly feel “right” in where we are in life or just not “right” in our very own skin.  To me, it’s somewhat funny how we often just go through our every day acting as if nothing in the world is bothering us or that life is absolutely perfect.  Although I admit that it is, at times, extremely difficult to seriously follow-through with just “being ourselves”; I still think that we should at least try to make some attempt to stop lying to ourselves and each other when it comes to the occasional uneasiness we feel with others, as well as alone. 

Yes, it is part of human nature to want “to belong”—yet, it still doesn’t make it right to live a lie in both others’ eyes and our own.  To be labeled the “other” is not always the greatest experience, but it is also not the worst.  Straddling the fence can be a bit painful and uncomfortable from time to time; however, being completely stuck on the wrong side of the fence can be absolute misery and hell on earth.  True, I may feel as if I don’t belong in any particular group or place right now; but then again, this “out of place” feeling may just be the exact place where I need to be at this point of my life.

Stealing Caden's Kisses

My son is one of the most incredible creatures I have ever known.  Although he often drives me completely nuts; I know that his craziness most likely stems from his amazingly magnetic personality and gigantic heart of love.

I have always been the type of person to rush through every part of my life—both good and bad—I am terrible at “living in the moment”; yet, lately every time I am with my son, time cannot seem to slow down quick enough for me to enjoy every millisecond that I have with him.  Due to my unfortunate parenting custody situation, I have had to become a “part-time parent” in order for my son to enjoy both of his parents in his life.  I would never want him to miss out on the experiences that only a father and son can share together, so I unwillingly agree to part with my son every other week in order to follow the terms of our 60/40 parenting plan. 

However, the shortened amount of time that I now am forced to spend with my wonderful son has actually become somewhat of a painful blessing in disguise.  Through the time lost with my son, I have had to learn how to focus the little time spent with him on the actual quality, rather than the quantity (…as corny as it may sound).  And the precious moments that I have spent with him over the past few weeks have been so special to me that at times his simple presence and adorable smile have brought unexpected tears of happiness to my eyes.  He is so inspiring, yet so unaware of the impact that he has on me and in my life.  His innocence simply humbles me and makes me want to be a better person, in general.

This past weekend, he has melted my heart in so many ways.  His inquisitiveness and care for others never gets old and his curiosity always seems to crack up every single person around us.  The joy that overcomes his expression when he sees me gives so much meaning to my life in so many ways. Yesterday while I was teaching him to swim underwater, he was more than excited to mimic my every move involved with going under.  To be able to “do what mommy did,” all by himself gave him so much self-confidence and pride that he had to show every single person in the house. 

And as he continuously circled the small hot tub in which we were practicing his new skill, I couldn’t help but steal little kisses from him every time he came near me.  Although he was intensely focused on improving his new water trick, he still willingly decided to take his time and concentration away from it in order to fulfill my very own need for his love and attention.  I just couldn’t get enough of his sweet and slimy kisses yesterday and the fact that I knew I would not be seeing him for the next five days made me treasure each and every one of them even more.  Just to stare in his bright blue eyes and to hug his tiny pale body next to mine each time we embraced filled me with so many emotions, both yesterday and still today.  He is such a handful to deal with when I have him; but he is also so sorely missed when he is away. 

Oddly enough, the phrase “Stealing Caden’s kisses” has become one of the foremost thoughts on my mind over the last few months.  I am not quite sure why I even began thinking about any phrase at all; yet, it has somehow come to epitomize a main theme in my life when my son is involved.   

In a way, I think that I am beginning to realize that life truly is so short, futile and meaningless in so many ways; however, the few important things that actually do exist in our lives are nothing to play around with.  Those things that are so vital to our daily existence, like my son is to mine, are the things that we are willing to steal, kill and destroy for—nothing more and nothing less.  Time is so fleeting—especially time with my son—and even though my time with him has unfortunately been cut short from what it once was; I have thankfully come to know that he actually is the only thing in my life that is truly worth more than life itself. 

Beers & Long Runs

I haven’t written in my blog for quite awhile and I am not sure of the ultimate reason why…I don’t really know if I can attribute my “lack of writing credit” to my lack of initiative, ultimate shyness, inevitable busyness, outright shame, or just pure laziness—but, for whatever reason, I have not been held very accountable to my writing and/or “venting process” like I ultimately should have been. 

Although I am a fairly open person regarding many personal details of my life (primarily when I am writing in my blog, talking to a complete stranger, or drinking in a bar with a somewhat close friend…), I also often try to pretend that the sometimes intimate conversations discussed never happened afterward.  Many times, once I let somebody “see the real me” or “into my heart,” I then fear finding out what the person actually does think about me—as an actual “individual”—whether the feedback about me is good or bad.  For some reason or another, I am just so scared to know what people truly think about me either way, regardless.  I am so afraid of allowing people the opportunity to truly get to know me—as “me.”  I have been so hurt so many times before that now I just feel as if I have subconsciously allowed myself to become so disillusioned to the idea that good people still do exist in this world…and actually do care about what I think and feel.  Yet, lately I somehow unknowingly managed to have trusted someone else…to have proven me and my subconscious ideas wrong. 

Within the last few weeks, I have gotten pretty close with an acquaintance of mine through running.  Primarily, over the past several days, we had begun running extremely long distances and sharing our lives with one another to pass the time.  At first, our runs had begun as something pretty shallow; yet, as I began to speak more with him, I soon realized how much of a truly deep and remarkable person he was. 

Even though our runs have always been completely innocent and purely at a friendship level—I still remained somewhat unsettled by the fact that I was unsure whether I was someone’s “little secret” or not.  Yes, I admit that I definitely had my doubts whether or not his wife knew about our daily runs together; yet, I did not really know how to bring the awkward conversation up to him.  But, I knew how it felt, firsthand, to be the one who was “kept in the dark” about “the other woman” in my own husband’s life.  And after my ex left me, I had made a promise to myself that I would never subject any other person to the torment and pain that I had gone through just so I could experience some temporary pleasure or happiness.  My conscience would never be able to live with itself, period. Yet, somewhere inside of me, as I ran on my long runs with my new running partner, I felt that he was different from others.  I felt that he was different from my husband.  And thankfully, I was right. 

Tonight, over some beers and during our heart to heart run, he shared with me that his wife knew all about our runs and that she was completely cool with it.  And from that point on, I felt as if a pound of bricks had been lifted off of me.  Although, in my heart, I had known that he is one of the most genuine people I have ever talked to; realistically, I had also known that the truth never really comes out until the actual “questions” are asked.  And thankfully, I am so glad to say that my new friend had successfully and honorably passed the “test.”  And through our conversations, I was also fortunate enough to realize that actual love and trust still does exist between couples—including my friend and his wife. 

My friendship with him has truly blossomed over such a short period of time and I feel so connected with him on so many different levels that at times it feels somewhat eerie…Not only has my actual running pace and mileage improved since I began running with him; but, so has my perspective of others…and myself, in a way.  No, he is not perfect—but, who really is??? …And who really cares???  I am coming to discover that he is an absolutely amazing person in so many ways and my respect and adoration for him only seem to grow more with each passing day.  Although he is happily married and busy with his own life and issues; the fact that he doesn’t mind taking the time to get to know me and who I am as a person has truly touched my heart.  He has really helped me to believe that good people still do exist in the world.  Just over the few weeks that I have gotten to know him as who he is; I have somewhat regained so much more confidence in the actual person of who I really am, as well. 

Yes, reading through all of this now, it almost seems as if I am placing too much trust and actual friendship into this person (much like I have sadly and gullibly done with others in the past); however, you really never know about people until you give them a chance.  And the chance can never truly be given until you trust them with some part of yourself.  Yes, there is the chance that I may get hurt, yet again; but, there is also a chance that I may gain a great new friend and a myriad of new life lessons learned.  And, if anything—for the time being—he has at least given me another reason to believe in myself and my dreams…and well, that at least has to count for “something” right now.