The state of the (dis)union

It’s been quiet around here, I know.  No news is good news, I know that too.  Yet, no news can also be bad news.  Or it could be backstabbing news, news that appears harmless but undermines you behind your back.

There hasn’t been too much action these days.  I keep half-expecting to see a metaphorical tumbleweed bounce across my field of vision.

The (Texas) state-mandatory 61-day waiting period came and went with little fanfare.  My soon-to-be-ex is still quite amicable, at least on the surface.  I remain fully aware that he could be anything but on the inside, plotting and planning and being conniving and devious.  It’s a messy artist’s palette.

My soon-to-be-ex did betray himself the other day, by getting a little antsy and letting it show through.  Everything is subtle, though, and if you’re not examining him under a magnifying glass, it’s easy to gaslight yourself.  He’s like every other pathological narcissist/psychopath: you have to decode him.  I have to know that any time he texts me, for almost anything at all, there’s largely a self-interested ulterior motive.  There is the rare exception, but it’s just that: rare.

I’ll illustrate one of each scenario.

The antsy-ness likely came from the fact that there’s been so little activity and movement on the divorce, and there are things he wants to do that he currently cannot legally do, because of the standing orders automatically issued on both parties the moment you file for divorce.

The vibe was subtle and semi-nonchalant, but the request was clear: hurry this along.  Apparently there has been a lot of plan-making going on behind the scenes.  It became obvious that the only reason he hadn’t gone further with those plans is that he could get into legal trouble.

And then there’s the rare exception to the ulterior motive, and I’ll explain that, too.  Struck by the unusual (for us) combination of a freak snowstorm and near-record-low temperatures, my soon-to-be-roommate and I huddled together at the apartment my soon-to-be-ex and I still share, and even brought my kitty over.  He willingly fetched food, communicated updates effectively, and even hung out with us in the living room in the evenings.  It was amicable, even friendly.

I do have to give credit where credit is due.

Sometimes it can be easy to remind myself of what he is and what I’m dealing with.  Other times, it’s harder, and I have to remind myself more often.

Everything else is status quo.  Utilities restored, life has resumed its normal hum.  It feels very familiar and settling and stable…

…Kind of.  The moving process had ground to a halt during the weather nightmare, so there hasn’t been any further progress on that.

And I’ve been having these dreams.  Dreams that are vivid, yet I can’t remember anything about upon waking, but send my emotions into the seven figures.  Each day is book-ended by a persistent emotional backdrop of bleak, sad, scared, uncertain, that never lets me forget it’s there.

Sadness is the easiest one to explain.  I’ll be leaving kitties with him, no longer able to see them 24/7 like I can now.  I will miss them and I will grieve–hard.  I see the train in the distance; it’s coming.  I know it’s going to hit once it reaches a certain spot.  And my feet are like lead; there’s nothing I can do to get out of the way, or to stop it or escape.

The uncertainty and the fear run together, and they’re pretty self-explanatory.  With so many facets of my life on the verge of complete change, especially in the direction of something completely unknown, my future is anything but certain, including Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, and of course that induces fear.  It’s a very primal fear, and it never subsides entirely, ebbing and flowing, the latter during times at which my surroundings are quiet and I’m alone and most vulnerable.

The bleak feeling may simply come from the combination of the three above.  Or it may be something else.  Maybe it stems from the fact that I have zero interest in dating, which means that physical touch and affection and protection may be in short supply.  Or maybe it’s driven by a subconscious lack of self-confidence, such as damn, maybe I’m never going to be able to make this relationship thing work after all.

I’m fortunate in that I do not feel shame, nor regret, nor detectable grief for him.  I’m not still in love at all.  I do not feel guilt.  I don’t pine for him or have daydreams about him reaching epiphanies or attempt to help or “show him the way”.  I’m still not afraid to be single or live alone.

It’s very “Here I Stand and Face the Rain”.  The lyrics encapsulate perfectly everything I’m thinking and feeling.

I know that everything is temporary if you give it enough time, and I know that Endings Are Hard, even if it’s the end of something bad.  I just hope that when I re-read this post and reflect back on this time of my life six or twelve months from now, my response will be “wow, that sucked and I’m thankful life is so much better now!”, as opposed to sighing and actually reminiscing or something.

May the force be with us, and with us all. ❤

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