Those of you who know me, or have read sufficient of my posts, will understand that writing, for me, is deeply therapeutic. These last few weeks have been extremely difficult and yet I have felt unable to document my feelings for fear of reprisal from those who perhaps consider that I have brought my misfortune upon myself. I hope that anyone sharing that opinion will halt right here and exit without comment.
For my friends, family, followers and those just comforted by truthful accounts of life, I hope that sharing my sadness can help you somehow in your own situations.
So, after seventeen and a half years of being together, the last five of which have been post Brain Injury, I have called time on our marriage. It was not an easy decision to come to. How could it ever be except in the most extreme of circumstances? but for me at least I feel it is the right path to follow. Not the path some would have chosen, but here, right now, in my shoes, with my history, my weaknesses, my imperfections and my limitations, it is the path I need to travel.
I am, understandably, highly distressed that it is ended. I feel bereaved in many ways. The person who has shared my thoughts, dreams, love, longings, anger, sorrow, passion and pain, is gone. I hope not out of my life entirely but his role in my story has changed and that hurts deeply. In truth, the man who I married left five years ago, and whilst the new version is wonderful in many ways, the pressure and strain of the last five years have taken their toll.
What saddens me, more than anything, has been the attitude of others. For some reason people feel a need to take a side . I guess for many people the concept of change is terrifying and perhaps needing to blame one party is understandable. Life is much easier to bear if we can convince ourselves relationships fail only when someone does something terrible or brings about their own destruction. Accepting that sometimes fate deals a bad hand, that can result in overloading and collapse - well if we accept that, we also have to accept (frighteningly) that we may be next.
Am I excusing my own failure? perhaps.
Going back to the title of this entry though - the book. I recently tried to explain to Chris that in my opinion marital relationships can be more easily understood if we liken them to being as a novel. Some people manage to create epics - hearty volumes which fill the pages and go down in history as being inspirational and something to aspire to. Just as the literary greats make it on to lists of 100 must reads, these marriages, by being the exception rather than the rule, stand out. The marital equivalents to Tolstoy's War and Peace - how apt. My relationship had it managed to survive much longer would have be entitled War, War, more War and finally Armageddon.
These 'books' come in all manner of genres....there are romances, tragedies, mysteries, comedies - more often than not the genres merge throughout confusing both the characters involved within, and those who look on from the outside. No two novels are ever the same.....some mirror others at times but essentially the style of writing, the intensity, the depiction can never be identical. This is why it is painful when others try to compare- to determine whose book is more favourable......and who is the villain in each.
Some believe that a book must never end......that even if the pages are blank, or filled with drivel, meaningless nonsense or painful tales they must continue until an epic has been created.....not understanding that the length of a book is not the determining factor for greatness, rather the content and the way it enables others to feel as they read.
I would imagine as an author, part of the talent of creating is also knowing when enough has been written; when to add more would simply spoil what already exists.
As a book lover myself It upsets me when I feel I need to let go of my books, for want of space usually. Regardless of whether they are here on my shelves though or deep in my mind I will always treasure the reading experience that a great book has provided. It would be ludicrous to think that once I am finished I would destroy the book out of contempt, simply because it is over. That is no way to treat something which once gave you such pleasure.
This is one of my greatest sadness's. That at the end of so many years, so much metaphorical writing, I feel we are encouraged to view our stories with disdain.....to try to forget them altogether, to learn to dislike the tale, to disregard rather than cherish the memory of it. I have read hundreds and hundreds of books in my life and I can safely say that to appreciate a great story I do not need to remove or lower my admiration of any other great book. Each is entirely different and able to be appreciated in it's own way. They cannot always be compared and to love one does not mean you cannot have loved another before it.
Of all the sadness that exists in divorcing this is the saddest part. The thought that one day, the person who once meant your whole world, whom you have created new life with, is no longer there. That the aspirations you both had have fallen by the wayside and now it would seem, or so people say, that there is no room for even a friendship to exist. I struggle with this. Relationships fail, for a multitude of reasons; infidelity, intolerance, lack of respect, selfishness, aggression, arrogance - many reasons why couples lose faith in one another - many human frailties which we all share.
Ultimately no-one can judge. And when it comes to understanding why I am ending our tale, the crux of it, for me, is simply this.....that the book Chris and I have written has become so sad I do not wish my children to grow up believing that this is what a story should be. They deserve better than to watch as two people destroy each other in the name of love.
I hope my friends that you can understand.....but more importantly that whatever chapter you find yourself in right now it is a happy one. x x
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