I was on the receiving end of a divorce today. The ink is dry. I am no longer a wife.
I have felt a thousand and one emotions the past few days. Anxiety. Sorrow. Rejection. Doubt. Abandonment. Gratitude for the good things that came from our marriage. I’ve cried through my wedding DVD and laughed through tears over sweet love letters from our college days.
This divorce – this forever severing as the decree calls it – will be my largest regret and sadness for the rest of my life, no matter what else my life has for me. I will walk through the rest of my days holding in one hand “we should have never married” while balancing “but I wouldn’t trade my children or my friends or anything good that came from our marriage” in the other. It’s all a mystery. One I will grasp lightly and gratefully, knowing I’ll never fully understand the why’s behind it all.
There are so many moments I would change, so many words I would give anything to take back. So many tears I wished I hadn’t cried, so many actions I wished I would’ve taken.
And yet, here I am. Not one moment can be changed. I am who I am in huge part because of my fragile, now unraveled and undone, marriage. I can’t go back. And I wouldn’t go back.
For today, and a few todays to come I’m sure, I’ll look over my shoulder. I’ll wonder. I’ll cry. I’ll be sad and walk slow and sigh. I might conjure up a smile or two thinking on the good things.
But then there will be a time, sooner rather than later I hope, when I will know it’s time to move completely on. Today is not that day. The ink is dry on paper. But the ink is not yet dry on my heart. That’s going to take a while. Gratefully, I’ve got the time. All the time in the world. And I’ve got a patient, gentle Healer who will sort things out, hold my hand, walk alongside me, make all things new, and promises – absolutely promises – to bring beauty from these ashes.