Posted by: shelliejelly | January 26, 2009

Not by the hair

I’ve been going to therapy weekly since O. came home and asked me for a divorce. C., the woman I see every Saturday morning, has special insight, as she is who was seeing O. and I when we briefly tried marriage counseling.

Because C. understands O. and what we’ve been through, talking to her is especially enlightening. I can tell her about some of the behaviors and worries I have, ask her questions about O.’s diagnosis of bi-polar disorder, and know that she will give me all the information she can. Perhaps without trying, she gives me comfort by helping me wade through the distrust and anger that floats right alongside my hope and optimism.

What I’ve uncovered these past months is that the end of my marriage is ambiguous. “I feel like we had a photo finish,” I’ve told her on more than one occasion. “I’m not completely convinced the marriage couldn’t have been saved.”

And I’m not, my mind cluttered with more than a few ways things could have been different. But they didn’t, and the reality of the situation is where I am now. “O. is not a terrible person,” C. has often reminded me. “I think it’s understandable that you feel conflicted.”

There is something more that tugs at me, though. A little piece of me that still believes that O. and I belong together, that we understand one another in a way I find it hard to believe I’ll ever have with someone else. “Of course you feel that way now,” C. always interjects. “Your divorce isn’t even final.”

She is right, I know. She mentions the passing of time, and I know that, too. I’ve been dependent on the the healing power of time on more than one occasion, jumping weeks and years into the future where I could see the pain dissipate.

There are no answers right now. There is no way to tell myself that I’ll be okay, somehow, even though I know this to be true. I understand the depths of my resilience, am intimately acquainted with my strength. But, but, but … watching that second hand chase it’s tail across the face of every clock only reinforces the knowledge of how slowly time passes, of how long you can wait for healing.



  1. […] I was wrong, and I’ve been so foolish. I remember telling C., my counselor, how I sometimes couldn’t fathom the divorce being final. There has always been a part of me that honestly believed we’d find […]

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