When someone your age dies, what's the first thing you want to
know? Died of what? You just want to hear it's something that can't happen to
you.
Well, it's the same thing with divorce. Tell me it was booze,
cheating, physical abuse - no problem. I'm a monogamous social drinker, and
Claire only sleep-hits me. Just don't tell me it came out of the blue.
- Phil Dunphy on Modern Family
A few nights ago, as
I cleaned up my apartment, I began thinking about how many times I've heard the
words, “Wow, you’re so strong,” since the word "divorce" came out of
my mouth 76 days ago to describe my soon-to-be marital status. I'm pretty sure
if I had a dollar for each time I've heard it, I could've paid for a month's
rent by now.
As I danced around
to the shuffled playlist on my iPhone, I couldn't help but think how far I'd
come. And then, without warning, it happened. Pumping out of the speakers,
I heard the message loud and clear:
Loving him was like
driving a new Maserati down a dead end street*
“Yeah,” I thought...
Faster than the
wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly
“Yup,” I said out
loud to no one.
Loving him is like
trying to change your mind once you’re already flying through the free fall
Like the colors in
autumn, so bright just before they lose it all
“Uh-oh...”
Losing him was blue,
like I’d never known
I could feel the
catch in my throat.
Missing him was dark
gray, all alone
Crap.
Forgetting him was
like trying to know
Somebody you’ve
never met
But loving him was
red
Before I knew it, I
had to sit down. I knew I needed to let myself cry if I was going to move
forward and let go of the little pain I had left inside me.
And so I did. I let
it go: each delicious, wet, heaving sob more cleansing than the last. It was
the kind of cry that you only know if you’ve been through something truly
demanding on the human soul; that ugly cry that you never want anyone to see,
and that you’re almost too embarrassed to let yourself see or go through.
The song ended, but
I wasn’t done yet. I hit rewind.
I let it play once
more. And then...one more time after that. And then, just as quickly as the
sadness had taken over me, it was gone. I let the playlist move on to the next
song. Appropriately, it was “Good Time” by Owl City & Carly Rae Jepsen.
I stood up, feeling
new strength in my legs, walked into the bathroom, washed the tears off my face
and blew my nose. I stared at my reflection for a moment and reminded myself
that I didn’t need a man to tell me I’m beautiful, but a shower was sounding
good just to make me feel (and look) a little better.
I smiled at my
reflection, redid my bun, and I was quickly off to thinking about cleaning up
again.
There is so much
that I've learned over the past 2.5 months.
You have to take
moments like those as they come instead of jumping to, "where is my life
going," or "why has this happened?" If you take the victim
route, you never learn anything except self-pity. Instead, take the moment
you're given, use it, and move on. Don't apologize if a weak moment suddenly makes
you feel 10x stronger than you did 10 minutes ago. Realize that's what it was
there for and let the beauty of your weak moment help push you forward into a
new, happy one.
Be grateful for the
people in your life who are proving themselves to be true, genuine friends.
They're the gems who suddenly pop out of no where and help pick up your pieces
when you've fallen apart, and without your asking them to.
And above all else,
listen and trust that God has a deep, beautiful plan for what lies ahead and
that when something you thought was the biggest, best thing ends, it only means
that something better is coming for you.
Sometimes, it just
takes a little patience.
To my dear readers:
This is the last
post you will be seeing on this blog. Since this chapter in my life is now
closing and a new one is beginning, it seemed only appropriate to have a
closing post.
Although I know many
of you have wondered if I meant the words I've written on marriage in here,
know that every word was meant at the time. Sometimes life just hands you
something you weren't expecting. And with that, you just have to roll with the
punches, pick up the pieces, and find a way to move on.
I don't regret
what's happened, and I don't hate my soon-to-be-ex-husband. In fact, we've
stayed friends through all of this with an understanding that our split as
husband and wife is permanent. Oh, and the old saying that "hindsight is 20/20," is sometimes very true.
Most of all, for
those of you that have your own fear of what has happened to me, don't ever let
someone else's story scare you into thinking, "what if that happened to
me?" It leads down a path of unhappiness that's wildly unhealthy. You can
only take and lead your own life and make your own decisions based on the
beautiful hand that God has dealt you.
Regardless of what
has happened, I'm not afraid of what's happened or what's to come. It hasn't
left me scarred, distrusting of men, or wondering if I'll ever love anyone
again.
I suppose that's
part of why I chose to write this last post before beginning a new journey (and
blog to go with it). It's deeply important to not get carried away wondering
what will happen in your own life based on something that has happened to
someone else.
I do want you to be
able to move on with me, and so a new blog is already being created. Actually,
closing this chapter is allowing me to move from Blogger to Wordpress - which
is a move I've wanted to make for quite some time now.
When the time comes for the new blog,
I'll be sure to announce it on here, Facebook, and Instagram.
Love to all of you,
and thank you for reading.
xoxo,
Lauren
*The italicized song
is "Red" by Taylor Swift.
