Thursday, 14 November 2013

Love, life and loss

My little brother is now a married man. It seems incredible to me, and at the same time, there's part of me that says, "It's about time!". I still have a hard time thinking of him as a man, really. I see him as a boy every time I look at one of my blonde daughters. The family resemblance there is uncanny.. in the shape of the head, in the expression of the mouth.. His bride is gorgeous, inside and out. I barely know her, and I adore her.

Attending their wedding was an amazing, though very painful experience, given my circumstances. It didn't help that my estranged husband attended as well, and as circumstances demanded, I ended up spending a good portion of the day with him. There were so many times that I was thinking, "I wish that was true for us," or "I wish that was something I had.. " So many regrets.. 

The reception was the hardest, for many reasons. I had some emotional wounds revealed and reopened by my parents, and some wistful and wishful thinking when I listened to my brother. My estranged husband was sitting next to me, and as I was listening to the beautiful words my brother spoke about his bride, I could feel his eyes on me, and I wondered..  

I have always said that I had never seen a married couple that showed me enough to make me want to be married. I can't say that anymore. The way my brother looked at his bride, the words he spoke about her and to her... I know they're newlyweds, but it was different. He didn't speak of the happiness she brought him, he spoke of his desire to make her happy. He didn't speak of how much she loved him, he spoke of how much better she made him for knowing her. He didn't speak of what she gave him, but of what he wanted to give her. He didn't speak of taking, or enjoying, or getting.. he spoke of service, and sacrifice, and real, unconditional love. And I realized that's what I want to be able to say. 

But life goes on.

I have struggled in the past few weeks with depression. It's been hard just to get up in the morning. Not from lack of sleep, though that probably isn't helping, but because I feel so hopeless. I get up for my children, because they need me. I find joy in them, though I find it hard to smile any other time. I am deep in grief for my marriage, and I find it hard sometimes just to breathe through the pain.

 It isn't physical. If it were, I would be able to manage better. It is the wounding of a soul, as two who were one now become two again. And with every interaction with my estranged husband, this ripping away becomes more obvious. I don't know if it is because he is oblivious to his running over me, or if it is my pulling away in self-preservation, but there is growing distance.. a chasm between us. 

I am attempting to simply keep the peace, at the moment. I manage each interaction, hiding myself, hiding my feelings, allowing many things that hurt to go unchecked, in view of the larger picture of not risking confrontation. And I make preparations. Taking steps.. steps that will lead me up and away from the prison that is this relationship. 

I can't let myself think too much. My brain stays on static or occupied with the mundane, everyday affairs of children, house, education, holidays and birthdays, so I won't think about this emotional death. I fear being sucked under, and I'm attempting to just float on top of this turbulent sea. 

I need time.. I know subconsciously I am processing, healing, dealing with all the emotional incidents of my life. I am finding some strength returning as I wait. I wait on the Lord. He is my vindicator, He is my refuge, and I rest in His hands. He is my life-source, He loves me and I will never lose it. 

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