Posting this here as it’s Vanisher adjacent.
Today, the Fourth of July, is the anniversary of the day I woke up to find my husband gone.
I don’t mention that to anyone. I don’t put a lot of weight on anniversaries anymore. But even though I have much heavier, more stressful, scarier, more important things to deal with in life, this weekend, as I probably will to some degree every July 4th weekend, I obviously have reflected a bit on all the things that happened.
Yesterday I went on a hike with my friend and her husband and another woman, who is an acquaintance of my friend (a mom of one of her kid’s friends), and her boyfriend of several years.
So I was basically the fifth wheel, which I didn’t mind at all.
At one point, the three of us women stopped on a ledge that was pretty high up with a gorgeous view. And my friend proclaimed that she would like to toss her husband right off that cliff, I guess for committing the apparently unforgivable offense of trying to make her laugh by singing along to Garth Brooks in a Southern accent.
And then along the way I ended up talking alone with this woman for a decent stretch of trail. We were having a good conversation, laughing and chatting. Until the part where she, this person I had known at that point for less than two hours, said to me, “Jesus, sometimes I think I wouldn’t even be that sad if I woke up one day and *he* was gone.“
She had absolutely without a doubt emphasized the word “he,” referring to her boyfriend, with the unspoken part being “you know, like your husband did.”
There was a long uncomfortable silence and I could tell by the look on her face that she realized she had just said something completely inappropriate. This woman I had never met knew a version of my story that I’d never told and I realized that to her, I was *that* woman, the one she’s definitely gossiped about, the one whose husband just up and vanished one day. And not only was she referencing it to my face, she was making light of it.
She tried to backpedal and started spewing a bunch of crap about how my former H must be insane to have left me and “you deserve an actual prince” and blah blah blah. 🙄🙄🙄
I left right after the hike instead of joining everyone for lunch. And later on when I was alone, I thought about relationships of convenience, how some people, like this woman and her partner, get together and then stay together, often for a long time, simply because they think it’s better than being alone, and usually it’s a “fine” relationship and they aren’t particularly happy or particularly unhappy, and when holidays roll around they know they’ll have plans, and on their birthdays they’ll have someone to buy them a card that says something really nice inside, and when it’s time for them to die, they’ll have someone to grieve them and I suppose that means they’ll have mattered and who doesn’t want to matter to someone, right? Right?
I mostly think I’d rather be alone than be in a relationship just to not be alone, but if I’m honest, there are those fleeting moments when “just fine” sounds better than alone, actually. I listened to fireworks I couldn’t see last night and out of nowhere I started to cry and couldn’t really pinpoint why, but it wasn’t about my former H. I don’t feel much anymore when I think about him.
https://youtu.be/xgFHo-Fhi28Anyway, Happy Monday, and happy Fourth of July to the US LBS.
The desire to be loved is the last illusion. Give it up and you shall be free. ~ Margaret Atwood