Thursday, April 29, 2010


Life goes on.  It's a cliche.  As well as a catchy tune.  And it's dead on the money.  Life does go on.  It's not always the life you'd planned on, it's not always the life you wanted and it's not going to always be the same. 

My marriage is a mere shell of what it once was.   I know it.  He knows it.  The kids know it.  Even the younger kids, I think, sense there's something a little off.  What I find the most odd about this whole situation is that we're fighting less since the realization that we're at the beginning of the end.  There's no need to fight.  It won't change anything.  So we co-exist. 
We discuss home and children matters.  We plan home improvement projects.  We coordinate schedules in anticipation of child related errands and activities.  We e-mail each other here and there through out the day to pass along some bit of info the other either needs or that we found interesting, and neutral enough, to share. 
It's actually quite....  pleasant.  Which is a little weird, a bit of a relief and a whole lot of scary.  Was it this easy because it was never meant to be and this was inevitable?  Or is this simply the calm before the storm??
I haven't cried in about a week.  Maybe a little less.  I've felt hopeless, sad, scared, depressed, etc, etc...  but I have not cried recently.  I expect I'll cry again.  It's who I am.  I cry.  Commercials, corny sitcoms... anything remotely sappy has the potential to start me crying.  So I'm only seeing this as a short reprieve from the tears. 
For now...  life goes on. 

1 comment:

  1. I wonder, since I'm not around to actually witness what's happening, are you just finding a new way to deal with each other and it becomes a growing moment? It sounds almost like a beginning thing, not necessarily an ending thing... if that makes sense. Beginning to get along a little better, for the sake of the household. Beginning to deal with each other instead of hiding, fighting, screaming, etc. Beginning to move on with whatever is in front of you instead of dwelling on the past.
    Again, I could be wrong since I'm not there to witness it first hand.