I started this whole thing because I have nobody to tell my random thoughts to anymore. Though that in itself is untrue, I am lucky enough to have a very supportive, incredible group of friends that will listen to just about anything I ramble about, and very rarely complain. I guess what I meant was that I don’t have anyone I’m comfortable enough with anymore to share without second guessing myself. Of all the things that got taken for granted, I never expected this to even make the list, but it’s turned out to be the biggest hurdle for me.
I think it’s because it eats at one of my oldest, deepest insecurities. I believe, and have for decades, that I am too much for one person to handle. I talk too much, my interests contradict each other, I’m terrible at making decisions, I am too emotional, too silly, too bitchy, too scared… the list goes on and on. Most of it is nonsensical self-loathing, but there’s always this little voice that reminds me that so far I’ve been right. Nobody has gone the distance yet, clearly because it can’t be done.
Today, I was simply unpacking my bathroom (I moved in 2 months ago. Add “procrastinator extraordinaire” to that list.) and suddenly I found myself bawling on the floor, surrounded by barely used hair products. Why? Because months ago, when we had the discussion that would be the end of the active portion of our marriage, my husband left the house and returned within minutes sans wedding ring. I assumed he’d flung it somewhere, or put it in the garbage can. He has a great love for drama. Instead, he had slipped the ring in my pile of jewelery I had sitting in the bathroom. In my hurry to pack and get myself out, I grabbed the whole pile and crammed it in the box that got unpacked today. So I hadn’t been expecting to find it amid my tangled earrings and hair ties. But there it was. Reminding me of how hard I searched for it, and how happy I was when I found the perfect one. Bringing to mind the way it looked the first time he put it on, and seeing that it made him as happy as it made me.
I remembered looking over at his hand from time to time and feeling better seeing this ring on it. I felt like it meant he had my back, in that way I’ve always feared no one will. I also remember it being thrown at me, twice, accompanied by threats and harsh words. It was then I knew that the support I had always wanted was not to be had this time either. That the ring itself was much stronger than the man wearing it, or the words he said when he put it on.
It was unexpected, and bothered me quite a bit. But rather than spend the entire night in a puddle of regrets and abandoned volumizers, I’m getting it out and getting the fuck over it. I know this won’t be the last time something comes up, but it gets easier each time. One day, I’ll be able to simply smile at the memory and keep going without even the slightest hitch in my step. Maybe I am a lot to handle. But I’m pretty fucking worth it.