The Beginning at the End

As my life has changed substantially in the last seven months or so, it seems appropriate to abandon all prior attempts to rationalize my old life, and begin trying to understand my new one. Of course, despite the beginning of the new life, much of it is still in limbo at present, which accounts for the title of the blog. I haven't yet determined in which direction I wish to, er, direct my life, and I'm hoping that in this blog I can begin to figure these things out.

Furthermore, as the title also indicates, I've decided that it is time to finally take my writing seriously. I have four chapters of a book just sitting there, waiting for me to finish it, and I've had this book just sitting there for almost five years now (God, is it really five years?). So, I have a goal: to write at least 500 words a day, whether it is for the book, or for this blog. I have no idea what form these words will take, but I imagine it will be personal exploration, external observations, and bits and pieces of creativeness that float through my mind. It'll be interesting to see how it all develops, but the point is, at least I'll be writing again.

So, now what? I don't know. . . . I suppose I should say something about what has changed in my life. Where to start? I guess with the biggest change: divorce. I'm getting divorced. After eight years of marriage, and ten years of a relationship, I'm getting divorced. I have to say that, one year ago, this was really the last thing on my mind. I had wanted so much to make things work with my husband, and had even started a blog to track my resolutions . . . and one of those resolutions was to be a better wife. And then . . . what happened? What ever happens? Why does one decide that life would really be better without a particular person, when all you'd ever thought about was how life would be -- the rest of life -- with that particular person?

Of all the decisions I've made in my life, this is one that I know is right, yet wish so, so much that it weren't. I wish more than anything that this decision weren't the right one, yet every time I think about what led to the decision, I am entirely convinced that it was the right thing to do. But the pain that has attended that decision is enough at times -- many times -- to make me call into question the rightness of the decision. That I have severed a bond that was so many years in the forging, and that was so central to the shaping of my character and personality and self as it was -- in so many ways it's like I've severed part of myself. Like I looked at my right leg one day and said, "Yes, you're useful, and I'm not sure how I'm going to get along without you, but I don't think we should be together anymore, because we just aren't working."

I know the question -- why did I make the decision? For reasons that I could not possibly go into here, no matter who never reads this blog, it was clear to me that neither of us were good for each other, and that neither of us were making the other one happy. And isn't that what it's all about? Happiness? I mean, I'm not sure, when I look at the future, what I'm going to do without him -- I really don't know, and it terrifies me beyond belief to think of it -- but when we were together, we weren't happy. Because of a strange historic accident, as John Cleese would say, we met, and we found each other, and found immense joy and happiness in each other for a time, and helped each other, and helped each other become the people we are today, but also hurt each other irreparably, so that we are where we are now.

I sometimes think of the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The movie might seem ridiculous to some, but I understand it, because I feel that if we were to have our minds erased, we'd keep finding each other, again and again and again. Would we be doomed to be continually unhappy? That I don't know. But I also don't know how my life will work without him. It has to, though, because if it doesn't, then I'll have made the worst decision of my life, and I can't believe that it was the worst decision of my life, but I'm almost 100% certain (call it 99.99%) that it was the right decision.

Bugger all this. I'm about 300 words over my goal, and all I've done now is depress myself.