Living in hope...still

One thing I wish about myself is that I would not spend anymore time in my life acting like I did this evening, quiet and drawn into myself. In the midst of the familiar din of family and food, I sat as still as I could. The voices of these people I love echoed in my head as I responded as appropriately as I could and still be miles away.

I spoke to a friend this afternoon, a woman I used to hang out with regularly. I haven’t seen her since my wedding. Once upon a time, though, she was a face in my circle. Her phone number came to my finger without having to stop and think about it. The day my divorce was final she sent me a huge bouquet of sunflowers, brilliant red, streaked with gold. I selfishly put them in my bedroom and forced myself in the days that followed to notice their beauty, as they dropped soft pollen on the table underneath them. When I close my eyes I can see them.

I hadn’t thought much about the fact that we’d lost touch these past months, but today a mutual friend told me why. She’s in the midst of a divorce – I was going to say neck-deep, but there is no air where she is right now. No light.

I called her and clumsily offered her my support, and listened to her say things I’ve said myself. The same damn story. Again. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard it now, and I can’t believe that it still shocks me. This is the second time this week that I’ve discovered that a family I know is being fed through this particular shredder.

And because I am at heart a small and selfish human, I spent the rest of the evening locked inside my own fear. As dinner ended and the kids wandered away, I sat next to Clay, enjoying the lull. I put my hand on his arm, and tried not to say it to him, but his eyes found mine, and that always undoes my stoic intentions.

“Don’t ever leave me,” I whispered. He shook his head at me.

“I never never will.”

I leaned against him and closed my eyes. I tried to enjoy the warmth of his skin against mine, without fearing the cold of when he’s not touching me. I remembered making the choice, two years ago, to take this chance.

I resolve again to live in hope.

Comments

[Amma D]

Yup. Sorry about the angst back there. But it is such a cool word, anyway. Clay, however, deserves better. Like 'priceless'.

[Mir]

I'm so, so proud of you, darlin'.

It's so scary. And so worth it. But I'm still really, really glad you went first. ;)

[Carmen]

I really have no words, but I hope it all clears for you soon.

Big hugs.

[Suzanne Temple]

God bless you and your boys.

[Angela Giles Klocke]

It's a horrible thing that we even have to think it sometimes...please don't leave me, please don't hurt me... (((HUGS)))

[Amy]

I am living in hope that you will one day blog more than once per week...sigh...

[ammaD]

I would be agreeing with Amy, if I wasn't working so hard not to nag. But no blogs leaves me so much time to nag. But then again I have resolved not to nag.

I guess we all just live in hope...sigh.

[ammaD]

Ok, I'm sorry I said that, because you are working so hard to take care of business. I'm soory. Uh, sory. Um...sorry.

Whoo, am I sorry!