I was listening to a lecture by a retired therapist. At one point he offhandedly mentioned a category of patients in exploding marriages with one spouse full of contempt, lies, and intoxicated on limerance, while the other is blindsided, confused, and flailing. It kinda knocked the breath out of me. As part of his larger (and unrelated) point, he described the flailing party as grasping at their knowledge of the other person with phrases like "but I know you." He concluded by saying something like "trying to understand the madness of someone who's mad is very, very difficult."
It made me think of events that happened to me. I wanted certainty. I wanted assurance. I wanted... to know. All of this was in service of gaining control, which I desperately felt I needed because the ground beneath my feet gave way. I can now see that it was a fool's errand. My ex wasn't cruel, conniving, backstabbing, manipulative, a liar. My ex wasn't caring, loving, considerate, thoughtful, honest, genuine, authenticate, loyal. She wasn't those things because she's not a thing; she's a person. She's more than I can ever know, or distill, or fully hold. This, to me, feels like a truth I would NOT have been capable of hearing, or believing in the immediate aftermath of bomb drop. Who is she? The short answer is that my ex is unimaginably selfish and a coward. The long answer is so much more nuanced, complex, and unsummarizable.
Anyway, I've finished my refinance. I paid out my ex. Her name is no longer on any bills that I receive. I no longer legally owe her anything. There are no obligations, associations, ties, friendships, or acquaintances bridging us. We are undone. She is truly someone that I used to know. She's flat. She's a page from a textbook. She's a citation. She's real, genuine, useful even, but simply too remote for me to bother. Like checking out a library book. I simply don't care. Her contours aren't visible, only implied. She's a parenthesis for a forehead. She's a genie without legs. I don't have the bandwidth, or memory, or energy to render an avatar. I see a smile, and then eyes, and then the text of a response. I can't stitch them into a voodoo doll. These disconnected slices can't be stacked or welded. They can only be held in isolation. She's simply too far away for me to pretend she might not be, to pretend that there's anyone there at all. This is exactly the realization of my worst fear. This is what had me unable to sleep without coating the bed in a fevered sweat. This is what motivated my death-grip. I can vividly recall the tension throughout my body when I attempted to briefly consider this outcome. But the hilarious reality is that... this feels incredible. My self worth is completely unwound from her thoughts or actions. My life is unimpacted by her unilateral decisions. I am not anxious, or longing, or spiteful for things she might do, or stopped doing, or did. This worst case scenario is lighter and freer than anything I could have fantasized about when my focus was to "save" my marriage.
Of course, there was some lingering strangeness. My ex mother in law reached out to me to ask if I had any weekend plans, the week of Valentine's day. I had not communicated with this woman in years. While I have some hunches as to why she would have reached out, I can't know. All of those reasons are about her and her impulses more than me, anyway. I then received some mail addressed to my ex from what was our home insurance company. I marked them as "not at this address" and returned them the same way I mark all the mail for the ghosts of people that used to live here.
It might sound like I'm beyond it all, but that isn't true. There is no escaping loneliness, sadness, angst, and the menagerie of classically negative emotions. But somehow, that's alright. There's no need for escape.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uk7JItajmF0https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OSNRug4rYTk