I am essentially a divorced woman. I don't say this out loud very often, and I never talk about it. It depresses me; and also I don't want to get into any angry, philosophical arguments with someone about the fact that I was never actually married to my Ex totally negates my feelings on the matter. I know that I am not actually a divorced woman; but I am in every sense but legally.
I met my Ex when I was 23, and he was 20. We started dating when I was 25, moved in less than six months later and lived together for the next six years. Combined households, bank accounts, joint decision making. We shared a car. We came this >< close to buying a condo together.
He supported me through grad school. I supported him through the beginning, difficult middle and near disastrous end of a PhD program, which he exited ABD, but sane. We lived in three cities and four apartments. I had friends who married and divorced and became married to other people in the span of our relationship.
I've been asked many times "What happened?" or "What went wrong?" And I think that usually even though I do my best to answer, the person asking the question never feels satisfied with what I have to say. When there's a break-up after such a long time together people want fireworks, they want sparks, and anger. Or at least resentment and heavy disappointment. For the longest time after our relationship ended the only negative feeling I carried that I attached to it was guilt. And even that was hard to explain, because I didn't do anything wrong when we were together, I didn't cheat, I didn't lie to him, I didn't take advantage financially or otherwise.
So the guilt that I have held on to is just to the guilt of not being able to be to him what I knew he wanted me to be. He was, he is still, one of the best men who I have ever known. I have moments when I know without a doubt that I will never again be in a relationship with someone who is as good of a person as he is. He was always kind, and caring and even though there were times in our relationship when I was disappointed, or moments when I was angry none of that ever grew to be larger or more important than the love and respect that I had for him as a person.
I guess it's one of those cliches where everything that looks perfect on paper just never quite translated to real life. I felt like we spent our whole time together in anticipation of what would be next, leaving Buffalo, moving to Boston, starting grad school, ending grad school, moving into a bigger apartment... When I look back at those times it is so obvious to me that the whole reason we were always focused on the future is because we were never happy, truly happy, in our present.
Still, ultimately I became the one to end things between us; a step that was frightening and inconceivable after the amount of time we had spent together that I put it off for months, if not years, longer than I should have. And after that I felt overwhelming relief, and tremendous guilt. I always believed that it was somehow my fault, that I couldn't be everything that he expected, that I couldn't love him enough, or in the right way and that all of the reasons for this lay in my own dysfunction.
We stayed friends, which freaked everyone around us out way more than it did us. Our former mutual friends were uncomfortable when we were in a room together, but we were fine.
Then about a year ago, I got an e-mail from him. I knew he's been dating someone seriously, I knew they were moving in together - actually moving across the country together to Salt Lake City. He was excited, which didn't surprise me, he was always excited about whatever comes next. So here they were, and then this e-mail landed in my inbox and became a revelation. He was happy, he loved it in SLC, he never wanted to move again. He didn't know if I could understand, but he felt like for the first time in his life that he was exactly where he should be.
Of course I understood; and I finally understood something else. I wasn't the only one who was not as happy as I should have been when we were together. It wasn't just me that the relationship didn't fit on, it was both of us. I was just the one who finally gathered the strength to do something about it; knowing, hoping that ultimately we could both end up with the true happiness we were looking for. Butterflies happy.
That's what I am still looking for; and what he has found. Yesterday he married the love of his life, back home in Buffalo. The pictures on facebook look beautiful, and everyone looks so happy in them. I wish I could have been there, but I understand that having one's ex at a wedding is strange, and would have created more drama than it was worth.
It's been four years since we split, and sometimes I miss how close our friendship used to be. I understand that the fading of our friendship over time is a necessary part of moving on, compounded by both the growing distance in time, and the larger than ever physical distance between us, but I also know that he still is, and will always be one of the people who understands me the best. A person who chose to know all of me, and loved me just the same. Seeing him happy makes me happy, and hopeful.
Mozel Tov!
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