Gone From My Life, But Not From My Dreams

There is a question that remains unsolved. Why can't I remain totally free from the memories of this detestable character with whom I severed ties four years ago?

I try to cut him off, but even in dreams, his face would appear, along with scenes and symbols that do not indicate a restoration, not even of friendship, will ever take place.

Time and again I let go of the past, but in a way, the past does not seem to want to let go of me. If I must search for the root cause of all this by digging deep, then I must risk opening my wounds.

The Accidental Coach

Someone I know who was very close to me asked to meet up after work to confide a nagging worry.
The conversation promptly opened with a question that almost ruined my composure: "How did I know for sure that my then-husband was having an affair?" It wasn't that my friend wanted to know my answer. I've known this person's family history well enough to anticipate the direction her inquiry was going to take.
I listened as she poured out the details, that all-too predictable plot we normally see played out on nighttime soap, of her spouse keeping secrets and talking on the phone in hushed tones, of my friend fishing for signs of extramarital activity among his personal belongings, of heated arguments and the stony silence.
Here was a woman holding herself together --- a mother whose youngest child was a couple of months old, thinking of her own mother who fell ill just recently, recovering from an unexpected passing away of a sibling, at the same time struggling to stay in the marriage as well as keep the peace with in-laws within the confines of an extended household --- by the last few threads of her eroding sanity.
The stream of tears that was broken by sobs coming from her shaking body, however common as the story itself may be, struck a disturbingly familiar chord.
Recalling my own episode of dealing with the frustration, anger, and helplessness I felt when the love my ex used to have for me had gone cold, I could only offer some practical advice that would prevent the situation from turning her into a madwoman.
Turn to a marriage counselor? Why invite a witness to potential dead-ended discussions who might just assure them that when the husband tires himself of the affair, he will certainly find his way back into the arms of his persevering faithful legal wife?
Turn over some stones in the hope of exposing the identity and whereabout of the 'third party' involved? Why should she dig deeper when rodents would only hide themselves further in their burrow? All she would find was more dirt. I explained that a wife could not expect a husband to own up to his infidelity and surrender his prized mistress (while I mentally swore death to every home wrecker alive ).
When I sensed that my friend was reaching a critical point I persuaded her to heed to her self-preservation instinct, that is, literally move herself and her children away where she can buy enough time to carefully think through what she wants out of this mess while there's STILL a measure of control left.
It may not the most encouraging thing to say to her, I know, but her staying put could only disable the defenses she had left and reduce her to a martyr. That sort of assurance comes only from well-meaning sympathizers who think situations like these go away on their own.
In my version of the story, when I decided that I was far worth more than the regard my ex-husband was giving me, that I was MORE than HIS wife, I realized wanting out meant salvaging my damaged self-respect, which was crucial if I were to regain myself, as if it were like growing back the rest of me that was somehow lost in the union.
Betrayal is a B*TCH, indeed. But even if time can graciously allow a woman to learn to love again, there is much, much more required is she were to learn to love HERSELF all over again. But she must first believe that no man is ever worthy of occupying the center of her universe.

Reposting My Notes on a Slowly Fading Memory

A FATHER who tells his 8-year old only daughter that he already has a girlfriend just weeks after breaking up with his estranged wife does not know just what psychological damage he is causing her.
Nor does he know how her longing for his presence would soon be replaced by distrust because of the numerous promises that he has already broken.

My husband failed to show up for my daughter’s voice lesson recital early in December. He had no idea that his daughter was anxiously searching for his face in the crowd all afternoon.

The Christmas break that followed gave very little opportunity for him to spend quality time for her, despite my prodding. Our little family spent a quiet New Year’s Eve celebration at home together, highlighted by the sheer joy of watching her overcome her initial fear of handling some sparklers. When morning came, I was dismayed when he got ready to leave again once again. When was he ever going to spend time with her now that only a few days were left before school resumed? The angry reply that I got was that he would do it when it’s convenient, and not whenever I would so dictate it. Speaking to our daughter, he explained that I didn’t love him anymore. The remainder of New Year’s Day was spent in tears. Right away, I longed for the newly started 2010 to be over.

“When is daddy coming home?” is frequently asked by my daughter. To help her reach him, I gave her a cell phone. She sent him a message when he failed to come home as promised one Saturday, “Daddy, be here now.” I saw her struggle to type the words, because she was not familiar with such a gadget. His reply came back, saying that mommy should realize all of her mistakes and to be sorry for what she had done.

I texted right back, asking why he couldn’t believe that it was our daughter who actually sent that message? Disgusted that he even had the nerve to think that I was trying to manipulate him, I stressed that if all he does is focus on my faults such that he could not say anything uplifting to her, then he would be not be receiving any message from that number. Shortly, he called our house phone and spoke directly to her. Whatever he said only left my daughter crying.

And so, crying has become common for my daughter whenever she was on the phone with her father. When I wasn’t sure of what to pray for anymore, I asked her one night to pray on our behalf, her father and me. My own tears poured out when I held her as she tearfully asked God, “Lord, help my mommy and daddy to be good...please...” Hearing her sobs only made me decide not to allow her to see me cry around her any longer.

To be honest, I don’t know of any other way to comfort her but to tell her “Mommy still loves your daddy. And right now, we need God to help us because we could not solve our problems on our own.” Neither do I know of any other way to explain, that why, for the fourth time, my husband did not arrive on the day he said he would be coming home. By this time, I had opted not to have our helper tell her in case he calls to say that he planned on seeing her. I thought I’d spare her from anticipating that he would be walking through the door ready to immerse her in his undivided attention. So far, the supposed “quality time” he spoke of came to mean arriving the following day, gathering his personal belongings, and then leaving her with yet another promise to see her on the next weekend.

THIS AFTERNOON, my daughter was berating me for arguing with her dad just two nights ago. Had the idea planted by her father finally taken root in her innocent mind, that the reason he walked out on us was that I was I did not love him anymore?

Right before I left for work (my work schedule shifted to the evening), a phone call came for my daughter. My husband explained that he was feeling too dizzy and so he couldn’t make it that afternoon (his usual excuse was that he had some things to finish). After a few exchanges, my daughter echoed in puzzlement what she heard him say, “You have a girlfriend?” I hastily scribbled a line and then showed it to her. “What’s her name?” Apparently, he refused to name this “diversion” that he was seeing.

We went upstairs to the bedroom. With a forlorn expression, she relayed the brief conversation they had. I asked about the girlfriend part. “Do you think it was right for Daddy to do that?” She weakly shook her head, eyes reddening with the tears that were about to fall. After offering some motherly comfort, I told her I’d go downstairs so she could pray, adding that whenever her father mentions the subject one more time, she must respond by saying, “I don’t want to talk about that.” As an afterthought, I gave her a spiral notebook to use as a diary, explaining that every time she felt sad (or anything else she felt for that matter) she would write it down. I had to help her find an outlet to express the sorrow caused by her father's absence.

A prayer, a diary, the repeated assurance that this 8-year old daughter will always be loved by her parents. How far could these really help to counter her slowly eroding emotional security? And what of her faith? How long will her hopes of a restored family withstand the barrage of negativity coming from her father? Will my comfort as a mother be enough for the sadness and longing crouching to overcome her?

I don’t have the answers.

I can only pray.


* * * * * * * * *

Even a little child can learn to find her voice. Coming from work the following morning, I am approached by our helper, who finds a note written by my daughter:


Dear Daddy,

Please you do not say if you merry another wife. I don’t want to have a new father. You cannot say that to me and I don’t want to hear about that. Mommy will be alone. I don’t want to have a new father and believe that of what I say. I love you.

For you and me,
(my daughter’s name)


Happy New Year, Daddy!

Status: “Complicated”

I've had a few friends who got concerned after seeing the status on my social networking page. Okay, so I chose "complicated." I wasn't out to neither deceive anyone nor give the impression that my marriage was on the rocks.

"Complicated" is not a status. Single/Married/Divorced/Separated, are all definable terms yet each may imply several things. Let's take the word "single," which could read: AVAILABLE, LOOKING, READY TO MINGLE, while "married" implies NOT AVAILABLE, and NOT MINGLING.

As for "divorced" or "separated"...return to the definition of "single" but then add to it "in transition to being..." Just like the terms RECEIVED/PAID/OVERDUE, these labels are used as stamps upon human relationships.

I chose "complicated" because, to put it simply, marriage IS complicated. It entails work that could get anyone's hands and knees dirty in order to stay married. I've seen many of my friends struggle through their marriages, and some have even ended up throwing the towel. Interestingly, I have yet to meet someone who is working very hard to stay single.

The next time someone notices that eyebrow-raising word underneath my profile pic, I'd reason that it's not an inability to classify the sort of relationship I am in, but rather, it's an admission that my relationship is one that abounds with life's ups and downs. Besides, it's a useful word that encompasses the changes and troubles that people go through from single to married, then back to single.

 

 

 

Connections With The Past

I became a member of a popular online social networking website just recently and I was surprised at how easily I was able to find old friends and acquaintances from my distant past. I have lost touch with these people long before the use of chatrooms and cellphones flourished.

Responding to "How are you?" leaves me feeling quite sure about where I should start. With the change of marital status and family roles, of home and email addresses, of jobs held, and of the personal circumstances of my life, I simply could not think of a few sentences to bridge the difference between how they knew me and how I am now. Too much history to catch up with.

Unpleasant memories have also sprung up the moment I locate a faintly familiar name. Then I'd mull over clicking "Add As Friend", because the petty misunderstandings, heartbreak, and eventually indifference, were what kept the distance between this person and me. I'd let a day or two pass, then move on to invite the recipient, deciding that I should not take offence if he or she refuses.

And finally, once I learn of how fortune has deemed others more deserving than me, that's when the sense of lack and inadequacy feeds my inner critic. Couldn't I have enjoyed a little more career success? Seen more of the world? Gain more noteworthy achievements?

Admittedly, these feelings do pass, but all together are just a twinge and disappear underneath the wave of nostalgia and the eagerness to hear happy tales.

I have lived in 7 cities in one country and 3 states in another. What goes with having changed so many addresses in a lifetime, along with packing and unpacking my possessions, is dealing with the flood of suppressed memories when the past starts to catch up with me.

Enjoying Time Alone

After ten wedding anniversaries (a couple of which were momentarily forgotten), my husband and I decided to plan an escape from the predictable weekend routine of home movies and pizza deliveries. We spent one night of absolute sensual indulgence at a themed hotel room nested among the cluster of love joints somewhere in the city.

In a span of twelve hours, we reclaimed the personal space that somehow become lost to us when the demands of work schedules only allowed us to be intimate twice, or even just once a month.

Before then, I could not recall the last time we spent time together without bothered by trivial annoyances. The intent to open up to each other would sometimes end up in baseless arguments.

It was a time to sanctify our private time as man and wife --- to reconnect and to draw strength, as we are sometimes afforded mere pockets of our waking hours to devote our attention to each other .