Today's chai was had with a tiny bit of guilt knowing I indulged in all the bad food this weekend. But I can't give up my daily chai. What would I write about?
The offer on our house firmed up today and I signed the acknowledgement with a little bit of sadness and a little bit of relief and sent it back to my realtor. Ambivalent is the very best word to describe my feelings this afternoon.
Someone once told me that each step of divorce comes with its own little whammy of "go fuck yourself" and just as you've been doing fine for weeks or months, some new step comes along and kicks you in the teeth. With that first heartrending decision to separate to the actual divorce, there are many steps in between that come with their own set of "fuck my life" feelings. Separation agreements, selling your house, moving out, signing divorce papers all come with their own baggage. And it's still not really over because the next whammy (or maybe it happened already) is your ex starts seeing someone. Or they get married. Or have a baby. With each event, you just have to deal with the emotions that arise or you will drown. Maybe you don't really care that much about one step or another, but one of them will hit you in an unexpected way and suddenly you find yourself sobbing in your car on the way home from work and wondering how everything got so fucked up.
While I've had a lot of other things happening these days that have made me sad, I've been trucking along concerning my separation and inevitable divorce. I've been doing the whole cohabiting thing on the weeks I'm with the kids and it's been awkward, difficult, and, at times, infuriating. It's also been kind of just normal. I don't like being here because it used to be my happy place and now it is very much not, but I just do my thing with the kids and get through the evening and do it all again the next day. Basically it's just been like this for weeks, nothing changing, nothing happening. Life.
Today, however, we sold our house. The house we bought with such high hopes when we still lived in Germany. The house I thought was my forever home because I was never fucking moving again. The house my kids were supposed to grow up in. And while I know that selling it is a good thing and it means I can really move forward and stand on my own two feet, come hell or high water, I found myself fighting tears of anger and grief and just plain hurt as I sat at my desk working on a bloody budget. This is what I wanted, what I chose, but it doesn't make it easier to live with, I can tell you that. I told myself I was being ridiculous, but I was honestly fighting the urge to call my real estate agent and begging her to find some way to reverse the process, that I didn't want someone else living in my house. Perhaps that is just because I really hate moving, but I doubt it.
This is just another step on the road to divorce, but it kicked me in the teeth today. Par for the course, I suppose. I'll bounce back, I seem to be unstoppable, but that's because my heart just keeps beating and life marches on. I can't stop and I can't stop life from happening. The hurt about the house will fade a little as I settle into my new place and I will hunker down and prepare myself to deal with the next step. You never know how it's going to hit you, but I suspect, as sad as I will be about signing divorce papers, I think I will also be a little euphoric. I will be free.