Wendi moved out tonight (thursday). I helped her set up her bed at her new place, and as soon as I got home it began to really hit me that I'm alone for the first time in four years, and living alone for the first time ever. I had been looking forward to the opportunity and the freedom, but until I get settled in my new place, I'm a bit of a wreck. I've got so much stuff to move, I'm way behind on packing, and I'm trying to deal with the reality of the end of my marriage on top of all the other stress.
I told Juliana the other night that her journal had led me to a realization that I thought would make a good journal entry. This was what I wrote:
Verbal communication isn't my fort. Somehow I seem to be able to think more clearly when I'm actually seeing the words flowing out in front of me, when I can read and reread them mid-sentence, then continue with a logical train of thought.
I've had some fairly well structured, inspired rants on this site; rants I don't think I would've been able to express anywhere near as clearly, accurately, or concisely if I was speaking them. Wendi doesn't quite understand this, I think...which was probably one of our problems. She'll ask me something like "What does the concept of God mean to you?" and rather than going on about the universality of religion and the indefinability of God, which is due to the highly personal quality of spirituality...or even bringing up the idea that the only thing that matters to me at this point in my life is this point in my life, not the past, and not the future, and so God is the world around me right now, within reach of my senses...I'm more likely to say something along the lines of: "[long pause]...I dunno. I can't say what God is because I can't know anything about God for certain."
...only even that is probably a bit more verbose than I would be, verbally.
Then, last night, I had a conversation with Wendi. We talked briefly about our situation, and I wasn't very forthcoming with my thoughts. But later that night I thought about it, had an epiphany, and wrote her a long note. The thoughts flowed freely. I was honest and open, and it felt good. I told her that I had already lost her as a lover and companion, that I didn't want to lose her as a friend, and that even though we're going in totally different directions now, I really hope we stay close.
We were more comfortable around each other today after she got the note, but that didn't make it any easier when she was gone.
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Sometimes my life seems to me like a scene from a novel. I was throwing away a bunch of old stuff while I packed tonight, and came across an old pair of black chuck taylors. I tossed them into the trash, and then realized that they were the shoes I wore in our wedding. The odd symbolism of it struck me: how they had gotten dirty and started falling apart right about the time our relationship started crumbling; how I had stopped wearing them just about when we decided to move to different cities...and now, on the night that she moved out, I was tossing them into the trash.
Today sucked. This weekend is going to be stressful. Next week should be a bit better though.
I told Juliana the other night that her journal had led me to a realization that I thought would make a good journal entry. This was what I wrote:
Verbal communication isn't my fort. Somehow I seem to be able to think more clearly when I'm actually seeing the words flowing out in front of me, when I can read and reread them mid-sentence, then continue with a logical train of thought.
I've had some fairly well structured, inspired rants on this site; rants I don't think I would've been able to express anywhere near as clearly, accurately, or concisely if I was speaking them. Wendi doesn't quite understand this, I think...which was probably one of our problems. She'll ask me something like "What does the concept of God mean to you?" and rather than going on about the universality of religion and the indefinability of God, which is due to the highly personal quality of spirituality...or even bringing up the idea that the only thing that matters to me at this point in my life is this point in my life, not the past, and not the future, and so God is the world around me right now, within reach of my senses...I'm more likely to say something along the lines of: "[long pause]...I dunno. I can't say what God is because I can't know anything about God for certain."
...only even that is probably a bit more verbose than I would be, verbally.
Then, last night, I had a conversation with Wendi. We talked briefly about our situation, and I wasn't very forthcoming with my thoughts. But later that night I thought about it, had an epiphany, and wrote her a long note. The thoughts flowed freely. I was honest and open, and it felt good. I told her that I had already lost her as a lover and companion, that I didn't want to lose her as a friend, and that even though we're going in totally different directions now, I really hope we stay close.
We were more comfortable around each other today after she got the note, but that didn't make it any easier when she was gone.
---------------------------------
Sometimes my life seems to me like a scene from a novel. I was throwing away a bunch of old stuff while I packed tonight, and came across an old pair of black chuck taylors. I tossed them into the trash, and then realized that they were the shoes I wore in our wedding. The odd symbolism of it struck me: how they had gotten dirty and started falling apart right about the time our relationship started crumbling; how I had stopped wearing them just about when we decided to move to different cities...and now, on the night that she moved out, I was tossing them into the trash.
Today sucked. This weekend is going to be stressful. Next week should be a bit better though.
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A week isn't a lifetime, but I finished the new Harry Potter book in 7.5 hours.