kiwords

After the last two posts I was startled to get a few emails and comments, referring to how lucky I am to have such a wonderful, supportive husband. Huh? I thought, HAVE? Present tense? How could they miss that I was speaking about my ex? I went back and read through the posts and realized that in every single instance I referred to him as my husband. My husband whom I loved desperately.
Ahem.
This is one of the hard parts about reconstructing your life after divorce. How do you explain events that were positive then if a central figure in them now is Satan? I was talking with a friend recently, and he was telling me a mutual acquaintance had asked him and his wife to send her pictures of their wedding. This woman had been an attendant in their wedding, and she had no memory of that era in her life. A few years after that wedding she and her husband had gone through a terrible divorce. “I guess the divorce was so bad she just shut away her memories of the whole marriage,” my friend said.
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe it was the difference between the marriage and the divorce.”
My ex? Yeah, he was that wonderful guy who held my hand through a scary time. His support and love ushered me through an era that reconfigured my very self.
Same guy stood in front of me, six years later, coldly announcing he was done with me. I remember fighting for air, gasping out,
“How could you do this? We had everything. How could you throw it all away?” To which he replied with distain,
“What did we have except a family?”
I try to be fair to him, and yet truthful. In my head I try to make space for both descriptions of the man, the one who held me up and the one who knocked me down. But it’s hard to keep them side by side.
So on one day, in one mood, I remember my husband.
On another day, in a more bitter mood, I’ll tell you tales about my ex.
I’m so glad he was there, and I’m also glad he’s gone. You’re right, I am very lucky.