The seventh anniversary of BD has come & gone with little fanfare. Oh, the time building up to it & the build-up to the holidays still has its melancholy. Winter is dark & dreary here & the memories of Christmas past intrude, especially the last one, three weeks before BD, when we were completely clueless (except for H, of course, who was plotting his escape).
So, seven years, the far side of the 2-7 year time frame MLC has been said to last. Counted from BD, not from H’s long-ago obsession with buying a motorboat (that I was to pilot, Yikes!) so that he could once again take up his teenage try at water-skiing again at age 55. Not counted from the five years before BD H said he had been “seeing” the OW. How long an EA, telling her of his “unhappiness in his M”? How long a PA? I didn’t ask. But they had become so “emotionally close”, had been “falling in love” & “wanting to be together” for 2 years or so. Whatever. All very crazy & unbelievable.
For two years, through the shocked & crazy world of the LBS, I believed he would come home. He let the separation agreement stand for two years while I said I was “making decisions” & he said I would have time to “re-establish myself”. When I said I didn’t want a D, he sent the court papers through the mail with no warning. When the D was final, he M’ed the OW within 2 weeks.
That, at least, was a clear wake-up call. For two years I had been hoping, but also preparing. Preparing to move, preparing to sell my beloved home, preparing to re-enter a long-dormant profession, preparing to live the rest of my life without my friend, companion, lover, husband of 40 years. And that’s what I did, moved 200 miles, sold the home in the woods I had designed, worked again as a nurse, & will live the rest of my life without the man I have loved since I was 18 & the last man on earth I would have expected to have hurt me like this.
Once you’ve been on HS for any length of time, you begin to see that, yes, there are returns. RCR’s own inspiring story. Others, some very slow & sloggy returns. But the number seven holds no magic. Most of the MLCers still seem to be lost in space five, seven, ten years or more. Clinging & boomeranging in puzzling & hurtful ways. Or, vanishing into new lives with their long-time infidelity partner who may now be their legally & socially acknowledged spouse.
I have a good life & I am very grateful for that. But my heart & soul remain damaged & I try (but don’t always succeed at) not returning to “trying to figure things out”. That way be dragons—no answers, no logic, no solution, & no peace at all.
Make the best of your life & live it as joyfully as you can. That is all there is.