You (we) live in a world of silence. Stopped up ears that block all but the most high-pitched, whirring din. Gummed up mouths filled with cotton fluff making speech, when attempted, a dry and raspy chore. Flopping tongues, lax and numb that can only mumble incoherent phrases.
The dark and empty cavities that fill our souls cause a throbbing ache that can’t be overlooked. Temporary numbing belies the painful neglect growing deeper year after year. We have become empty shells, ready to crumble and break. Every structure that once firmly anchored us and made us stable now stands diseased and putrid.
What little remains of our past grinds together, forcing a misery that erupts in a white-hot starburst of agony. The answer is clear. These remains must be removed, cleanly and carefully, but soon. Trying to hold these bits and pieces in place only reflects upon greater damage.
Even with this knowledge denial remains. Oblivion must be easier, safer, maybe even less traumatic than the wrenching and twisting that will come as each hollow part is released and removed. Logic shows that the time to save is long past. What needs to be done to convince you that the only answer is to part ways with each and every offending fragment and look ahead to the day that we can smile again.
The proceeding words were not planned as a beginning to this blog post. I had intended to ask for help, for someone who might hopefully explain a mystery to me. I honestly was looking for anyone to toss some thoughts around that might help me to understand how an adult can live in a world of silence, pain, and misery and yet exhibit, time and again, no clear intent to change or evolve or leave.
Then, without warning, some weird part of my dental past crept to the forefront of my brain and I began the odd metaphorical ramble you see above. Let me explain.
I know that my spouse has no idea that I plan to end our marriage. I know that factually because I have given no forthright verbal statement of my plans. Not yet. I have to get this eye thing figured out and moving. Not an excuse, simply a necessity. That piece of my life has to be in place first.
We have lived as separately as two people can (under the same roof) for months, years really. I think that I’ve stated that before. I am still flabbergasted when, without warning, I am confronted by an offhand comment that speaks to some sort of future- as in this marriage continuing ahead in some sort of quasi-normal form.
As in planning for the possibility of a major purchase “after the house is paid off.”
As in assuming that either of us is content to live this way for another year while we await the final payment on our mortgage.
As in my brain screaming out in an imagined conversation with my spouse “are you truly fucking telling me that you have no clue how awful and stupid and ridiculous this situation is and you are really willing to continue to live like this indefinitely?”
These offhand comments don’t happen often, but when they do I am knocked flat by the fact that this man seems to truly have no idea, not even a sneaky hunch, that perhaps the woman he has been married to for just shy of 34 years is ready to up and say goodbye. Is he truly oblivious, or just the best damn actor on the planet. And, even if he believes me to be holding onto some crazy contentment in this living arrangement, it is even more alarming to me that he may very well be content to live this way indefinitely.
I know this man is broken. I know that he has long-standing emotional issues, familial issues, unresolved issues; all of which have gone a long way in contributing to the failure of our marriage. I also know how hard it can be to come to terms with endings, and change, and uncertainty. I get that. I am guilty of that and waited far too long, but even though I waited and had to work through my own steps, I was never uncertain, nor did I kid myself about the future. I haven’t spoken about a future in years because there isn’t one.
Dear readers, I am finished. I apologize for this long and likely disjointed ranting post. You have once again been my sounding board. You are all the best of friends, the ones I can call to come over, sit across from and me and listen to the latest complaint. The ones who will let me vent when this life overwhelms. Thank you for listening.