05.04.20 | 808 am

ten long years, they fall like water


in a lot of ways, the emotional curve has flattened dramatically. or maybe i'm just on the tail end of it.

but then comes the second wave. the other, undealt-with shit that's going to have me sobbing on my bathroom floor. i finally had the courage to flatly, plainly, and without being in the heat of an argument say, "we need to begin planning for our separation." and that night i felt excited. i couldn't sleep for the anticipation, the clarity, the hope.

the next day, rosy nostalgia clouded my vision and sorrow began creeping in. twelve short years (for time has passed so, so quickly) and so much life together. and we were so in love, once. he showed me the world, literally. he pushed me to grow in ways i didn't think i had in me. he pushed himself to be able to be with me, for he didn't have the stuff for dealing with dependency, commitment, conflict resolution. it was rocky, but we both wanted it enough to really work at making it work.

until it didn't.

holding our youngest in his arms, he gritted his teeth and snarled, "you're a fucking cunt!"

and so i told him it's time to start planning for our separation. and he just nodded and sighed.

the hopeless romantic in me, who is so afraid of never being loved again, has delusions that maybe living apart could bring some love back into our relationship. but that's just the sunset of dissolution and the aura of nostalgia. in the cold light of day, i'm facing down a very hard and turbulent road (like that 24 hour bus trip from Ethiopia to Nairobi) for which i'll need to summon all my inner strength.

and try to dry these tears for the kids.