Vortex
The clouds piled black on black, mist mountains blocking out the afternoon sun. The weather site had shown no break in the clouds anywhere within hundreds of miles. I once again had a moment of doubt but drove on, the earlier vision of walking in sun still echoing in my head.
Through the rain smeared windshield I saw a line of light in the clouds, far off, and I smiled. I laughed at myself and pretended to scoff at the sureness deep inside that the line was my expected sunlight.
The line disappeared as I drove the last thirty miles and as I was dressing for my hike in the empty parking lot I started ridiculing myself for my earlier surety. An ill defined shadow pooled at my feet as I was lacing my boots, and the sheen of water on tar started to sparkle. The shadow abruptly firmed to blackness and I looked up to a brilliant sun framed in a narrow line of blue sky surrounded by gray masses of clouds.
The trees at the edge of the parking lot were vibrant green in the yellow sunlight and the contrast against the black of the thunderheads pulled the breath from my body. I thought of my camera but then let myself be drawn into the moment, let all thought go to become a part of the pocket universe of light and tree.
The light shifted and the yellow became a little watery but held. I finished dressing and threw on my pack, grabbed my poles and climbed the trail out of the parking lot. The trail wound through terminal moraine and for the most part was wet but not muddy. The trees dripped and the air was heavy - the sun curled weakly through the mists but occasionally strengthened to dramatically highlight a scene.
I ghosted along, unwilling to disturb the magic of the moment, and the miles passed in inner and outer quiet.
If only I could hold that feeling.
This morning I sit in my office. It's quiet here too, but not calm. Tears hover at the edges of my eyes and my heart races. My stomach knots and twists and I feel an odd torquing in my head as if there is a whirlpool in there trying to suck me down.
Long ago I said I would stay in my marriage for the sake of my son, and at the time I believed that. I've examined that proposition over and over, alone and with several of my friends, and I've come to the belief that the lesser evil is for me to separate from my wife.
I talked with my wife the other night and told her with all the kindness I could muster that I don't love her and that I was finding it hard to be around her. She wanted to know the things that were pushing me away so that she could change, and I told her I didn't want her to change, that she was fine the way she was, and that we just were not meant for each other. She didn't seem to hear me and she started probing me for evidence of things that tied us together. I'm trying to be honest and so when asked, I told her I did feel a connection to her when we are having sex.
Predictably, we ended up in a marathon lovemaking session, and I really did feel connected to her while that went on. I always have, but it's not enough.
Strangely, the bad feelings I'm having don't have anything to do with my marriage drama. Over the last six months I have had to unlearn many of my base assumptions about the sanctity of marriage, but I have learned them and I now realize that a divorce isn't the end of the world. In many cases it is a beginning, and I feel that for me this ending of our relationship is a process that I feel relatively comfortable with.
My goal is to end my marriage and to try to do it with as much grace and compassion for my wife and son as I can practically manage. I want to have at least shared custody and will go for full custody if my wife is willing - I doubt she is.
The vortex, the thing that is literally threatening my being, is TB. She seems to be avoiding me, or at least not making any effort to have contact with me. Either case does not bode well and it shakes me to my core. I strongly believe that my feelings are my responsibility and I don't want to burden her with my drama, and so I feel ethically constrained to not afflict her with my needs.
TB has always made me feel stronger and more joyful - for a long time I never considered her as available to me and so I simply appreciated how she made me feel. As I've contemplated ending my marriage I have always been careful to keep TB out of my considerations, except for the fact that TB has taught me that real love exists and I am not serving anyone's interests in staying in a loveless marriage.
It is ironic that at a time I need strength I am letting my fears about TB weaken me rather than using the strength TB has fostered in me. I'm not proud of myself right now.
...
I know how to swim at right angles to this current. I know how to avoid the whirlpool and wait for the next miracle to pull me out...
...
...but right now, right now in this moment, I am scared and in pain, and I can barely see the screen to type through all the tears...
Through the rain smeared windshield I saw a line of light in the clouds, far off, and I smiled. I laughed at myself and pretended to scoff at the sureness deep inside that the line was my expected sunlight.
The line disappeared as I drove the last thirty miles and as I was dressing for my hike in the empty parking lot I started ridiculing myself for my earlier surety. An ill defined shadow pooled at my feet as I was lacing my boots, and the sheen of water on tar started to sparkle. The shadow abruptly firmed to blackness and I looked up to a brilliant sun framed in a narrow line of blue sky surrounded by gray masses of clouds.
The trees at the edge of the parking lot were vibrant green in the yellow sunlight and the contrast against the black of the thunderheads pulled the breath from my body. I thought of my camera but then let myself be drawn into the moment, let all thought go to become a part of the pocket universe of light and tree.
The light shifted and the yellow became a little watery but held. I finished dressing and threw on my pack, grabbed my poles and climbed the trail out of the parking lot. The trail wound through terminal moraine and for the most part was wet but not muddy. The trees dripped and the air was heavy - the sun curled weakly through the mists but occasionally strengthened to dramatically highlight a scene.
I ghosted along, unwilling to disturb the magic of the moment, and the miles passed in inner and outer quiet.
If only I could hold that feeling.
This morning I sit in my office. It's quiet here too, but not calm. Tears hover at the edges of my eyes and my heart races. My stomach knots and twists and I feel an odd torquing in my head as if there is a whirlpool in there trying to suck me down.
Long ago I said I would stay in my marriage for the sake of my son, and at the time I believed that. I've examined that proposition over and over, alone and with several of my friends, and I've come to the belief that the lesser evil is for me to separate from my wife.
I talked with my wife the other night and told her with all the kindness I could muster that I don't love her and that I was finding it hard to be around her. She wanted to know the things that were pushing me away so that she could change, and I told her I didn't want her to change, that she was fine the way she was, and that we just were not meant for each other. She didn't seem to hear me and she started probing me for evidence of things that tied us together. I'm trying to be honest and so when asked, I told her I did feel a connection to her when we are having sex.
Predictably, we ended up in a marathon lovemaking session, and I really did feel connected to her while that went on. I always have, but it's not enough.
Strangely, the bad feelings I'm having don't have anything to do with my marriage drama. Over the last six months I have had to unlearn many of my base assumptions about the sanctity of marriage, but I have learned them and I now realize that a divorce isn't the end of the world. In many cases it is a beginning, and I feel that for me this ending of our relationship is a process that I feel relatively comfortable with.
My goal is to end my marriage and to try to do it with as much grace and compassion for my wife and son as I can practically manage. I want to have at least shared custody and will go for full custody if my wife is willing - I doubt she is.
The vortex, the thing that is literally threatening my being, is TB. She seems to be avoiding me, or at least not making any effort to have contact with me. Either case does not bode well and it shakes me to my core. I strongly believe that my feelings are my responsibility and I don't want to burden her with my drama, and so I feel ethically constrained to not afflict her with my needs.
TB has always made me feel stronger and more joyful - for a long time I never considered her as available to me and so I simply appreciated how she made me feel. As I've contemplated ending my marriage I have always been careful to keep TB out of my considerations, except for the fact that TB has taught me that real love exists and I am not serving anyone's interests in staying in a loveless marriage.
It is ironic that at a time I need strength I am letting my fears about TB weaken me rather than using the strength TB has fostered in me. I'm not proud of myself right now.
...
I know how to swim at right angles to this current. I know how to avoid the whirlpool and wait for the next miracle to pull me out...
...
...but right now, right now in this moment, I am scared and in pain, and I can barely see the screen to type through all the tears...
posted by mw @ 4:29 AM
3 Comments:
At 9:53 PM,
The Narcissist said…
I admire you MW. I know that you are hurting, but I understand what you are going through, and the feelings you are having. From my perspective, I have learned that staying for the child isn't always the best option. It takes so much to tell someone you don't love them anymore, but how much better is that than pretending you do.
Though I never liked it when readers sent one my way because I didn't feel I "deserved" it, I send you a (hug). As I tell my daughter, owies always go away. That goes for the inner pains too.
Be well.
At 8:25 AM,
mw said…
I can't tell you how much the three of you (as well as those who e-mailed me) have helped. Thank you so much.
Each day has it's ups and downs. Your comments are one of the ups (a big one!).
Rebecca - I've probably started a hundred comments on your blog but always felt you were already getting way too many of us meddling in your affairs and I've almost always cancelled my comments. I think you've read my post about Karen and how long I let that go on. I've never really regretted that because I entered that relationship pretty poorly defined and confused and I left the relationship seriously battered but at the core a much, much, better person. I think of you often and always hope that good comes your way.
At 6:15 PM,
Anonymous said…
I am hoping you will share your story.
kindness coin
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