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No title for this one; the assigned topic was "somebody hurt you." You can take from that snippet that this isn't necessarily a cheerful moment portrayed within. Take that as you will.
Something was wrong.
I glanced over at him again. He was looking straight ahead at the road, both hands on the wheel, stretched out like he was bracing himself. He seemed pale and ill at ease. Not nervous, really, but sick or exhausted or something. He wouldn’t meet my gaze.
Seventy miles had passed since I first asked the first “are you okay?” question, repeated in various forms every twenty miles or so since then. We’d passed the spot where the car initially broke down since then, the event that precipitated this whole “rescue” trip. I’d just finished driving 800 miles yesterday to pick him up, and we had another 700 still in front of us for the return journey. We had maybe another 100 miles until radio stations became scarce in the New Mexican desert plains, and as this was my mom’s ‘87 Cadillac, CD players were right out. Something had to be done.
“Hon, something’s wrong. Tell me what it is. Do you need me to drive? Are you tired?” I put my hand on his leg and squeezed comfortingly. “I know you don’t like it when I push, but we’ve got a long day of driving ahead and we’re both exhausted. We’ve got to be able to talk about something, even if it isn’t this.”
He shook his head. “I’m fine.”
I sat back, annoyed at being rebuffed yet again. Old news, really, but somehow hearing it again didn’t make it any easier to take. I closed my eyes for a minute to regroup. I hadn’t seen him in a week; this wasn’t how I wanted our trip home to be. “So... how was Jen?”
“Jen was fine.”
“Are she and Chris doing any better? I didn’t have a chance to talk to them much while I was there.”
“Yeah, sort of.”
I waited for more explanation.
“She helped me with some things while I was there.”
“Tell me about it,” I said.
“Oh, God,” he said. “I didn’t think this would be this hard.”
“Didn’t think what would be?”
“I want a divorce.”
“You... what?” The roar of the wind outside seemed deafening. I was certain I had misunderstood him.
“I’ve been selfish. I don’t love you, and I don’t know if I ever did. I think I was just afraid to be out on my own. I’ve learned a lot from you, and I hope you can say the same.”
The world spun. My chest hurt, as though someone had just kicked me hard, center mass. My vision blurred with tears, and I wiped my eyes.
“You’re kidding. You told me you loved me before you left. You said—
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t real.”
“I don’t want to be married anymore, Michelle. I want a divorce.”
“I don’t believe you.”
There was construction by the side of the road. Orange barrels started as the interstate closed down to one lane each way. The silence between us grew and widened, drawing out until it seemed I’d forgotten how to speak. Breathing was hard enough. I stared out the window at the landscape, and my mind shut down to let my body find space to breathe.
680 miles to go.
Something was wrong.
I glanced over at him again. He was looking straight ahead at the road, both hands on the wheel, stretched out like he was bracing himself. He seemed pale and ill at ease. Not nervous, really, but sick or exhausted or something. He wouldn’t meet my gaze.
Seventy miles had passed since I first asked the first “are you okay?” question, repeated in various forms every twenty miles or so since then. We’d passed the spot where the car initially broke down since then, the event that precipitated this whole “rescue” trip. I’d just finished driving 800 miles yesterday to pick him up, and we had another 700 still in front of us for the return journey. We had maybe another 100 miles until radio stations became scarce in the New Mexican desert plains, and as this was my mom’s ‘87 Cadillac, CD players were right out. Something had to be done.
“Hon, something’s wrong. Tell me what it is. Do you need me to drive? Are you tired?” I put my hand on his leg and squeezed comfortingly. “I know you don’t like it when I push, but we’ve got a long day of driving ahead and we’re both exhausted. We’ve got to be able to talk about something, even if it isn’t this.”
He shook his head. “I’m fine.”
I sat back, annoyed at being rebuffed yet again. Old news, really, but somehow hearing it again didn’t make it any easier to take. I closed my eyes for a minute to regroup. I hadn’t seen him in a week; this wasn’t how I wanted our trip home to be. “So... how was Jen?”
“Jen was fine.”
“Are she and Chris doing any better? I didn’t have a chance to talk to them much while I was there.”
“Yeah, sort of.”
I waited for more explanation.
“She helped me with some things while I was there.”
“Tell me about it,” I said.
“Oh, God,” he said. “I didn’t think this would be this hard.”
“Didn’t think what would be?”
“I want a divorce.”
“You... what?” The roar of the wind outside seemed deafening. I was certain I had misunderstood him.
“I’ve been selfish. I don’t love you, and I don’t know if I ever did. I think I was just afraid to be out on my own. I’ve learned a lot from you, and I hope you can say the same.”
The world spun. My chest hurt, as though someone had just kicked me hard, center mass. My vision blurred with tears, and I wiped my eyes.
“You’re kidding. You told me you loved me before you left. You said—
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t real.”
“I don’t want to be married anymore, Michelle. I want a divorce.”
“I don’t believe you.”
There was construction by the side of the road. Orange barrels started as the interstate closed down to one lane each way. The silence between us grew and widened, drawing out until it seemed I’d forgotten how to speak. Breathing was hard enough. I stared out the window at the landscape, and my mind shut down to let my body find space to breathe.
680 miles to go.
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no subject
Date: 2007-04-11 06:27 am (UTC)From:Sorry you had to go through that. There's just no fairness there.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-11 05:30 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-04-11 07:06 pm (UTC)From:In my case, I still am trying to figure out what the hell happened. I guess the trick is getting to the point where I just don't care, and can not think too much about it.
I think not having answers and closure does make things harder, though.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-11 08:49 pm (UTC)From:Even now, I can't claim to know the truth. I only know what he said, but when you don't know whether it's true or not, it doesn't really mean anything. I spent years trying to get an answer out of him as to how much was real and how much wasn't, and he couldn't or wouldn't tell me.
It does suck that you didn't even get that, and that you have to do it all yourself. I was fortunate, I suppose, in that I didn't have to do it that way. On the other hand... I really don't know that it makes a difference, because there's no answer they can give you that will make sense to your heart. There really isn't. I remember thinking that I wished he had suddenly realized he was gay instead, because at least then that would have made sense to me and would totally not by my fault. :)
I don't know that it's about getting to where you don't care. I still care. I've just moved on. There's no amount of tears or grief that will bring back what is gone, no amount of self-recrimination that will change the past. There's still pain if I let myself stop and dwell on it, so I keep busy, and as time passes, when I stop and peek in on that pain, it's lessened. It only grows when I dwell on it, so I don't. I've rebuilt myself bit by bit, filling in gaps that were David-shaped with stuff that had no connection to him, because all the stuff that did was way too painful to use.
Given my druthers, I'd have been married for 16 1/2 years now to a guy I loved who loved me back. That guy doesn't exist anymore, though, if he ever did. I will never know the truth of that, so eventually I just stopped looking and moved on.
I have no respect for your ex based on the single point of information that she wasn't willing to give you that closure. I think there's no way that selfishness on her part didn't translate into other aspects of your relationship, and I hope that one day the anger and pain and loss and longing will pass enough for you that you can look back without hurting and self-recrimination and see how things came to pass and why some things are better for you now. I wish that for you with all my heart, hon. *hug* This, too, shall pass.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-11 10:45 pm (UTC)From:Didn't mean to imply anything about your experience was easy or a "walk in the park" or anything.
It sounds like it was horrid.
I guess we all wish for different things. If my ex had been up front with me about things, how would I feel now? Pleased that she was open with me? Likely not -- I'd be upset still. But, knowing what it is like without any closure, I wish for that -- it seems better than this way has been.
Oy. I keep thinking things are getting better, but then things take a turn for the worse.
Hope that'll stop happening someday.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-11 11:36 pm (UTC)From:Well, if she had been open with you, it probably wouldn't have caught you by surprise. That alone might have been easier, if not better per se.
It really does get better. The hardest thing to do is stop living with one foot in the past, always glancing behind at what was rather than ahead to what could be.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-11 11:57 pm (UTC)From:Well, I guess my point was that, had she been open with me, I wouldn't know what it feels like to have had her NOT be open with me, so I'm not sure I would be able to appreciate someone being open with me ... if that makes sense? In other words, I wish it had been different -- that she had been up front with me about how she felt -- but, had she been that way, I would have likely still been upset about it.
Yeah ... I sure don't want to keep living in the past, and I've done a lot of things to try not to -- for example, I have very few things related to her in my apartment -- that picture of her I attached to my LJ entry a few days ago is about the only photo of her I even own anymore.
But somehow the empty room makes me travel back in time in my mind.
Though ... getting outside doesn't help that much either, mainly because I see so many happy couples around!
Arrgghh!