Back to Us
I've been stuck. Having a tough time getting back into the story. Mostly because I so desparately want to be able to have a "happily ever after" ending and I don't. The next place I have to go is difficult. How did we get back together? Why did we get back together? Should we have gotten back together? It's all so gray...and I didn't know how to write it.
Then I read CatBirdScout--and it hit me. As I read, "I'm finding it too difficult to keep unearthing unfinished grieving and to manage present grief at the same time." I knew that was just what I am facing. Writing about all the difficulties of the early years keeps me questioning the now. After all, nothing magical happened:
One day, right around Christmas, as the wind whipped through my non-insulated rental house, we sat in the dining room huddled over our Saturday coffee. Out of nowhere, Greg quietly states, "I really want to be a family again". My heart skipped a beat, and then sank. I realized why. Of course he wanted to be a family again. It was Christmas and he was lonely. Easy to understand, but certainly not something to put a relationship back together with.
"I get it", I said. "But it's not enough".
"What do you mean?" he asked. I could tell it took a lot of guts for him to come out with what he had said, and (as usual) he was surprised by my response.
"I'd love us to be a family again, too," I started, "but I don't want just a family. I want a husband first. I want to be wanted as a wife as well. And you'd have to want that too for me to even consider getting back together."
"Hhmm" he said. "I guess you're right".
I could tell he hadn't considered them separate issues. I did. I had held on to the idea that we still needed to want one another as a life partner and lover in order to be happy as a family. Now he didn't know what to say. We just stared at each other a moment, both of our heads spinning and our hearts thumping.
"Why don't you just sit with that for a while" I suggested. "Let me know once you've had a chance to process what I mean". He jumped on that. "Good idea" he said as we each swallowed our last sips.
I left him there--alone with his memories of the good, the bad, and the ugly that was us--and headed out in to the whipping wind to clear my own head.
Then I read CatBirdScout--and it hit me. As I read, "I'm finding it too difficult to keep unearthing unfinished grieving and to manage present grief at the same time." I knew that was just what I am facing. Writing about all the difficulties of the early years keeps me questioning the now. After all, nothing magical happened:
One day, right around Christmas, as the wind whipped through my non-insulated rental house, we sat in the dining room huddled over our Saturday coffee. Out of nowhere, Greg quietly states, "I really want to be a family again". My heart skipped a beat, and then sank. I realized why. Of course he wanted to be a family again. It was Christmas and he was lonely. Easy to understand, but certainly not something to put a relationship back together with.
"I get it", I said. "But it's not enough".
"What do you mean?" he asked. I could tell it took a lot of guts for him to come out with what he had said, and (as usual) he was surprised by my response.
"I'd love us to be a family again, too," I started, "but I don't want just a family. I want a husband first. I want to be wanted as a wife as well. And you'd have to want that too for me to even consider getting back together."
"Hhmm" he said. "I guess you're right".
I could tell he hadn't considered them separate issues. I did. I had held on to the idea that we still needed to want one another as a life partner and lover in order to be happy as a family. Now he didn't know what to say. We just stared at each other a moment, both of our heads spinning and our hearts thumping.
"Why don't you just sit with that for a while" I suggested. "Let me know once you've had a chance to process what I mean". He jumped on that. "Good idea" he said as we each swallowed our last sips.
I left him there--alone with his memories of the good, the bad, and the ugly that was us--and headed out in to the whipping wind to clear my own head.
posted by Ask Me Anything at Sunday, June 03, 2007
12 Comments:
Fantasatic writing! Excellent use of details! Really, I am blown away!
Oh my God! You two are brave souls. It would have been so easy for you to just say, "okay, lets get back together."
So easy for him to say, "sure, I want that too" to appease you without really thinking it through.
This honesty despite the discomfort it brings has no doubt served you both well.
Great writing Terry!
What a poignant description of your conversation over coffee that morning. Love it.
Ditto, ditto, ditto. The scene is so alive on the page I can feel the tension. Love the way you tell your story!
I love that Catbird's words spoke to you. She is a wonder, that one! And I love that you held your ground and asked for what you needed and wanted instead of worrying about crushing his hopes. Seems to me something miraculous DID happen - you two found a way to be honest and respectful of each other and yourselves. Harder than it sounds!
i love your clear thinking in here. inspirational to think that you could know so definitely what you need and want.
I'm so glad to find you here again. And truly honored that my words connected with you. Your honestly and clarity take my breath away.
Happily ever after exists - it just doesn't look like what we've been trained to look for.
I'm grateful to be sharing the journey with you.
Love.
Catbird Scout really pierces through the static to the clarity, doesn't she?
This is an excellent post--we are right there at the table with you. And the honesty and openness that you and Greg had achieved, even then, are an inspiration.
Always so glad to see more of your writing, Terry. This is an especially fine piece. The details are terrific, and I love that you were inspired by Deb's writing.
This circle, this group of women has strength that's almost magical, and sharing it makes it stronger and deeper.
As always, I look forward to more of your story. You tell it with such depth and courage.
Your honesty, despite the pain is so brave. Finding the courage to ask the tough questions and say what you really mean in a nonconfrontational, honest manner, over morning coffee is the perfect way to communicate. This is really beautiful writing! XOXOX
Terry, this was so lovely and heartfelt. Hope all is well with you.
oh god, hit me where i'm at a little harder, why don'tcha!!! like carrie, love the way you use the details here...
i think i'll go curl up in a little ball and cry now!
Post a Comment
<< Home