*In going through my journal and letters, I have noticed all 5 stages of grief. While depression runs throughout, I shall call this one “Denial.”
It has been just over a week since we said our goodbyes and this is the first writing I have done. I have not been able to put pen to paper because I needed to sort through everything that has been running through my mind. This has been difficult due to the overwhelming sadness I feel almost constantly.
Collapsed on the floor after that last phone conversation, I realized I loved him. I knew that I cared, but never admitted to myself to what depth. I was moving in slow motion, not wanting to be in a hurry with him; not wanting to rush love. After all, I thought we had forever. And honestly, I thought he felt the same. He always spoke “future-speak” and in terms of “us/we,” as if we would have a future. Maybe he did feel it, and maybe that scared him. He did say that I was further along in the healing process. I had hoped to still be there when he caught up. Perhaps he’ll find me when he does.
I drove by P’s house the other day and they were outside together, smoking. Two things struck me as odd, giving me (false?) hope. The first is that they are still living apart and did not go to PA! Did he lie to me about that trip or are things already falling apart? I’m secretly wishing for door #2.
My second observation was that here they were, outside, smoking together and yet they did not appear like a happy couple, a reconciling couple or a couple at all for that matter. He was standing as far away from her on P’s front steps as is possible, staring off into space in the opposite direction. She was sitting, eyes glued to her phone reading something more interesting than conversing with him. I would expect a couple, a mere week into repairing their marriage, to be closer together, especially given the frigid temps. Or be talking to one another at the very least.
It made me think I might be right about him going back out of fear. In that dreaded phone call, he mentioned the good of his girls and his own peace of mind, but never mentioned his love for her as a reason for his decision. A familiar relationship, even if unhappy, is safer than risking one’s heart on the unknown. The pain you know is less scary. If that’s the case, I would never blame him for making the easy choice. I just hope he never feels regret. He deserves happiness. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but so does she. Whether that is them together or apart, they need to figure that out themselves.
I’ll drop off the books I have for the girls this Friday, in P’s mailbox like he said. She’s not usually there on Fridays. I’ll text him when I’m on my way and, who knows, maybe he’ll come outside and answer some of these questions plaguing me. It would make it much easier to move on knowing he is finally happy.