24 Hours Later

Yesterday happened - he's officially gone.  I helped him move.  Yes, I know.  I even sat there with him while he signed the lease for his new place - 12 months.  One year.  That's how long he is committing to being away.  I shouldn't say it like that, really, because he has already made the decision to go, this is merely another step to the process.  Each step he's taken has moved him farther and farther away.  I want to tell you I didn't cry yesterday, really I do, but I did.  I didn't cry while sitting there watching him sign his lease, I didn't cry while carrying his things up to his apartment, and I didn't cry while driving him back to the house so he could pick up his other car. BUT I did cry when he told me he loved me; when he felt the need to utter words that I've longed to hear for months.  I told him not to tell me that, not to lie to me, because love does not leave.  Love DOES NOT walk away.  He clarified himself, he told me he will always love me because I am the mother of his children.  I tried not to let him see the tears fall, I tried so hard to keep my big girl pants on, but they came.  They flowed hot down my face.  I was looking almost 12 years in the face and watching it all fade away.  I kindly asked him to get out of the van and I left.  I couldn't bear to see him pack more.



My new hair...

So what did I do?  I went and got my hair done.  I spent money I didn't have, but I wanted to do something for myself.  I wanted to feel nice.  Now though, I don't know why.  It seems so self-serving and wrong to have spent what I did on something that won't last.  What a waste.  That's how I feel today - what a waste.  I don't even know how to begin to process all my thoughts, feelings, and emotions.  I understand this journey is going to be one day at a time.  I understand that yes, one day I'm going to be able to look back on this and know its for the best, but for right now all I really feel is alone.

I hate that word.  Alone.  It is a hard word to say, a hard one to comprehend. I've been alone before, here in my house, but there has always been the underlying comfort of knowing that I still had someone to share my tomorrows with.  Yet today is yesterday's tomorrow and I didn't I have someone to share it with.  I didn't have someone to wake up to and smile at.  I didn't have anyone.  Before one of you goes off and tries to remind me that I have my three girls, yes I know this, but you cannot have grown up conversations with children.  It isn't fair to them.  Enough said, accept it.  They stayed at their dad's last night anyway and my parent's house tonight.

Actually, this weekend, I planned it so as not to have them here.  It's not so much that I didn't want to cuddle them and love them, but I needed to be able to process.  I needed to be able to think and cry and scream and cry some more and figure out what an empty day looks like.  I needed to be able to really, honestly, and truly think it out and not be interrupted.  I needed to be able to sit here and tap away fervently on these keys with the tears running down my face.  Honestly, I had a laundry list of things I was going to accomplish this weekend.  A hundred different things to show myself that I could take this step and walk comfortably.  I found though, that all those things I'd planned were just going to delay the inevitable.  That once I was done checking them off my list I was still going to end up where I am right now.  So, I decided to forgo all that time filling stuff. And here I sit, processing. 

I've cleaned some, cried some, cooked some, cried some more, read some, cried yet some more, watched a movie, and still I cried more - ok you get the picture.  I knew there would be tears, just not this many especially knowing I've cried so much since October.  Guess I have more to go.  I'm looking forward to the day the tears stop, not because I'm happy he's gone, but because I have healed and know that I have brighter tomorrows ahead - all of them just 24 hours later.