That’s funny. It just occurred to me that at the exact same time last year, I was still in a relationship. I actually canceled a girls’ night out to go to the Catskills with my ex, thinking that we would spend three days in paradise, which we obviously did not. We had a violent argument, so dreadful I still remember crying in the car, wanting my life to end because I felt so miserable. I’m shivering just at the idea of it. I cried so much that weekend. I lost track of who I was, what led us down that awful road and why I could not find any solution to remedy our problems. I thought I had the key to fix every little issue between us, and like most people before me, I was simply overconfident and too ambitious. Our marriage was doomed and I wanted to be the one who could fix it all. I never considered compromising, not with somebody who did not want to compromise anyway. I felt trapped in a life where I did not belong. It hurts me to remember all the love we shared, but it makes my heart bleed to remember all the pain we forced on each other. That relationship was ill, and it could not heal, not without a miracle at least. Maybe drastic changes on both parts could have salvaged it. I’m not even sure. I think that in the end we just lost track of who we were as individuals, and we defined ourselves solely through that sick relationship we shared.
It’s past. I got out of it alive, not totally recovered from all the psychological effects a separation and an impending divorce could have on me but I’m getting there. Today I didn’t think I would feel sad about that. I guess my wounds are still too fresh.
The Manicheans 