In my reorganization effort, I decided to consolidate three boxes of memorabilia into one suitcase-shaped box.
Two of those boxes contained mostly childhood things..a baby shoe, the robe my mother made for toddler-me, my high school diploma...along with a few items from my 20s. The third box held things from past romantic relationships.
As I transferred things to the suitcase, I realized that there's a very obvious gap in my love life's history. Some of that is obviously due to the use of email and texting..but it's very obvious to me that the gap has much to do with my divorce as well.
Divorce changed my entire life. I lost my job, I left Philadelphia, I mostly stopped writing. I went from being the bread winner to struggling to survive. I stopped having dreams of what I wanted to be when I grew up. I stopped being able to commit to much of anything.
That's changed over the past few years. And though I am very aware of most of that last paragraph, looking at the physical reminder of what I stopped doing was a sad thing.
There is so much in the undercurrents of a divorce.
A friend just wrote a few days ago about filling the now-empty side of the bed once occupied by his wife with stuff. Though the reason for his loss is death, not divorce, I relate. Until recently, I did the same, and I thought a lot about just getting a twin sized bed rather than deal with the unoccupied space next to me.
This isn't to say I am still in live with my ex husband. He is a huge part of my story, and I think he always will be. But no, it's more about the insidious effects of loss. How do you cope? How do you avoid? How do you heal?
Slowly. It gets better slowly, in ways you didn't know need fixing.
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