It’s been quiet here on the “ex and paramour contact” front…
I have not even eluded to getting the paramour’s email to either my ex or responding in any way to the paramour. I have also not been asked.
Truly, the contact has gone back to pleasantries or general disregard when we are together for the kids events or “the exchange”. I can’t say that I’m disappointed. I prefer the cold wall between us. I think it speaks to the fact that if we didn’t have to be in contact, I wouldn’t choose him as a friend or acquaintance. He’s not someone I feel I can respect. And truly, it’s not all because he cheated, though that is part of the disrespect. The main disrespect started with his self-centeredness and turning away from his family that occurred long before he had another woman to make him feel important. The disrespect from the affair comes in that being a “cheater” was the way he chose to end our marriage. Rather than be honest to begin with and end the marriage, he created a situation where I felt I had no choice but to act. He knew how I felt about infidelity. We had had many discussions on the topic.
I remember back to countless situations where the rational part of my brain gives myself a pass for being ‘un’enamoured with our marriage in the end…yet I still struggle with my inner demons. I have cried myself to sleep the past three nights. It has been almost three years now since he left. And truly, many years before that even, that our marriage was seemingly ‘over’…
I don’t miss him. Truly I don’t even recognize him anymore. And maybe, truly, I never really knew him…
I should be over this…
I don’t know that there are many people who DON’T feel that they are living a life they didn’t order in some way. Why should I feel any more deserving of my dreams to come true any more than any other person out there…
I’m not special.
Neither are others NOT special.
I’ve been identifying lately with a song…’Worn’…it always brings tears to my eyes. Lately they seem too close to the surface for my liking.
I’m tired. I’m worn. My heart is heavy. From the work it takes to keep on breathing. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve let my hope fail. My soul feels crushed by the weight of this world.
…So I cry out with all that I have left.
Let me see redemption win. Let me know the struggle ends. That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn. I want to know a song can rise from the ashes of a broken life and all that’s dead inside can be reborn.
‘Cuz I’m worn.
I know I need to lift my eyes up. But I’m too weak. Life just won’t let up.
…’Cuz I’m worn. My prayers are wearing thin. Yeah, I’m worn even before the day begins. Yeah, I’m worn. I’ve lost my will to fight. I’m worn. So heaven come and flood my eyes.
– Tenth Avenue North
I want to be past all this. I want to be to a point of acceptance. So my dreams have to change. I have to revision my life’s aspirations in many regards. How am I any different than a million other people who have lost their dreams to circumstance?
Get up. Brush off. Revision and move forward as a NEW person…
…maybe tomorrow. Tonight I’ll just grab my box of Kleenex and lay my head on the pillow to hopefully drift off soon.