Loneliness and alone-ness.
That’s what she told me to write about tonight for a blog challenge. I have some of the best, most remarkable women in my life and they yank on my heart strings if I don’t keep a close eye on them. I am such a sucker for a girl-learns-to-thrive-after-prince-leaves-with-the-help kind of story and with all of this thriving she’s done, I sort of let my guard down.
Nothing she throws at me now could ever beat the heartbreak I felt when Loneliness and Alone-ness’s husband left, in part because I remember every single time I heard someone tell her that “they were perfect”. She would smile that appreciative smile and remind them that nothing is perfect, but I could see that dark cloud roll through her eyes. It haunted her… as if compliments like that are numbered and even without knowing the magic number, she knew she was one well-meaning admiration closer to the end of… well, everything.
At least it feels like the end of everything when the one you love wants out of what you understood to be a lifetime commitment. It is crushing. It almost killed me when it happened to me… but then it didn’t; and Loneliness and Alone-ness was a big part of the reason I survived. She listened while I cried, obsessed, and raged. She helped me, tolerated me, and loved me. She kept me company when I was desperately lonely. She celebrated with me (many years later) when I made peace with being alone. (Then, there was my second wedding she tried to keep me from having… but that is a blog for some other day.)
Then her world fell apart… and it was a dramatic unfolding, long and elaborate, one for the record books, complete with gems like “she’s my soul mate” and “I just don’t love you anymore, not sure I ever did.” You know, the shit people say when their hormones/demons/unresolved childhood issues have them by the balls (or ovaries, whichever the case may be). I think it’s tragic for anyone to go through that, but it was especially hard to watch because she did it… perfectly.