At the gym this morning, in the middle of my leg extensions, I found myself swimming in tears. Chris Cornell blew into my ears on my iPod; the lyrics and his voice sent me into sensory memory overload.
Pearls that swim the rift of me
Long and weary my road has been
I was lost in the cities
Alone in the hills
No sorrow I feel
For anything I feel
I am not your rolling wheels
I am a highway
I am not your carpet ride
I am the sky
I am not your blowing wind
I am the sky here
I am not your autumn moon
I am the night
I am divorced. I knew it was what I had to do. I know it was the right thing. Never, not even once, have I thought leaving was a mistake. I waited until I knew, beyond any shadow of any doubt, that I had to leave. This has been merciful. Because of this, I am not plagued by doubts. I do not second guess the path I chose, or what that path means for my children.
But that has not kept me from missing my best friend. How is it possible for one vessel to hold so many complicated, swirling emotions? My ex-husband has been my very best friend since I was barely more than a child. We’ve known each other for more than twenty years, and those twenty were not distant years. They were years as friends, then college room-mates, daily companions, confidants. They were years spent picking each other up from broken hearts caused by others, wiping each other’s tears, and being each others’ shelter in the storm. When he asked me to marry him, part of my initial reluctance was that I loved him too much- that he was my best friend, and I couldn’t bear to lose him, like I had all my other love relationships.
And here I stand.
I miss him with a hollow ache that echos inside my soul. I miss our history. I miss intuitive communication and having someone on my side- always. I miss the shared experiences and inside jokes that only come from an honest lifetime of laughter and mistakes. I miss him. I miss him so much.
And when that guy at the gym smiled at me this morning, all I could think was “No! Where is David?” He is gone. In more ways that I can express, he is gone. My heart cleaves into a million shards- and even so, I know I did the right thing. So I stand up, burry my face in my towel, and move on. I don’t know what else to do.