Ok, let’s get a little more into the meat of the matter here.
I’ve been procrastinating doing this all week, avoiding this work that needs to be done because, less face it, I’m lying on a big comfy life sofa right now. There are a few lumpy springs… okay, maybe more than a few… and, well, the fabric doesn’t smell very pleasant and, there are some stains and the colour is not what it used to be and there are some worn patches and… but still, it’s a comfortable spot if you sit just so….
I want a new sofa. I want it to be clean and white and beautiful to look at and beautiful to sit on only on this one, I’d like some bells and whistles, something that is fun and exciting and has some adventure to it. Something that when sitting on it I’m not ever wondering if I’ll regret it, because I’m too busy enjoying it. That’s the kind of life couch I want.
Still procrastinating, still avoiding saying it ‘out loud’. I want a new life, one in which my husband, the father of my children, the man I have been with for 25 years through thick and thin, sickness and health, rich and poor and I want to call it a day.
I really want for this to be a mutual decision. I want us to sit down together and realize that we have grown apart, that we don’t have things in common any more and that we are both, at least on some level, unhappy.
I want him to say “yeah, I know. I was just hoping things would go back to where they were” and then he would say that he knew it was coming, that he could see both of us were just co-existing and not happy and then we would sit down and work out the details. We’d stay close so the kids would have both parents equally accessible and all the other stuff would iron out. That’s what I want.
The problem is that I’m not so sure that’s the response I would get – I’m not convinced that it wouldn’t get ugly, and messy and painful and I seem to be having an issue with that kind of activity lately.
And I can’t say as how I would blame him for potentially being in the ‘lets get ugly’ camp because we have been through a lot together.
- Together we battled infertility – the emotional ups and downs of being unable to conceive, treatments, surgery, and failure and repeat.
- Everything leading up to and including the adoption of our first son – as amazing today to me as he was 18 years ago.
- The heartbreak of a failed adoption. We only had Adam for a few days but we poured our hearts into that tiny baby and he became ours because he needed parents and we wanted him. But it was not to be and the day the worker came to our home and took him back to his birth mother was devastating and we were devastated together.
- There were the deaths of family members
- The Adoption of our Second (that we got to keep) son that for it’s own reasons was an emotional roller coaster and then three years later, his sister, after we thought we were done.
- Then there was the debilitating car accident he was in shortly after we brought home our daughter. That was a long road to recovery that ended, with no warning, just short of actual recovery. (he is still disabled and suffers pain from his injuries)
- Finally the breast cancer – the last 3 years of my life have been about breasts, surgery, chemo, radiation, removing the killer creatures, rebuilding substitutions in their place and trying to feel normal again. I lost my hair, my breasts, a lot of skin, a lot of time, parts of my mind (chemo brain) and he was there with me through it all.
- Within weeks of my treatments being finished – my mother passed away due to an undiagnosed cancer.
- He has stuck with me through all these journeys, we travelled together and always have been able to play off each other – strength from the other for the other.
But now it’s just not there for me. In The life I see when I squint – I am on my own.
I don’t have it yet – the determination to make that change. I’m still waffling. It’s been 25 years together and if you’re going to make a decision that big, it had better be exactly the right choice and you’d better be exactly sure.
In the mean time, I’ll throw a few new cushions on the couch.