This moment

It's all weird. I am depressed. Yeah like that's big news to anyone. I've been depressed for months now. Some days and weeks more than others! But it's settled into this slow fade, this trickle of sleeping every chance I can get and fading into just feeling these emotions.

Tonight I dropped my son with my ex. It was the first time to see him since he got back. I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to show emotion, because I don't understand really what I'm crying about. Loss. I feel like I have loss everything and indeed I have. It isn't an illusion that I'm losing my marriage, my house, my car, my son 50% of the time, my income, the security of the life I knew. Those are not illusions. That's reality. And to feel that reality is sad.

I feel discombobulated. I knocked slightly on the door of my former house. I mean what are you suppose to do in that situation. I mean I have a key to the house. Shouldn't I just walk in? That's why I did the courtesy knock, right? I mean is there protocol some where. I don't know but it was weird. My son was there in front of his favorite speaker. My ex stood up. I didn't know what to do. So I put on the brave face and I put his clothes back that had been packed, give him the Valentine's Day cards and the radio. He follows me. And then I cry. We both cry. We both hug. My friend. This friend that has hurt me. And I've hurt too.

We both cry. For different reasons probably but the same core. The mourning of our loss of the life we had. The fear of building a new separate life. That we are in this situation. That we are now here. Even though here is exactly where we need to be. He tells me that he is sorry he hurt me. I say nothing or I say "it's ok." isn't it? It kinda has to be. True to my form I am unable to hold a grudge, to stay angry. I am still hurt. He tells me about meeting her and he glows. I'm not jealous, I'm not anything. I just know that I don't want to hear it. I don't want to know. I don't need to know. The boundaries of our separate yet joint lives has begun.

I walk out the door after a bit and realize ... I'm not a mom right now. It's not like when I left the house before. When we are apart we parent as single parents, unless it's an emergency and well then that's different. So I drive off into my first night of singlehood. And I feel lost. I wasn't good at being single in my 20s, why would I be now?

I manage as usual. The mundane tasks of getting dinner. I go to visit my mom at work, to look at the couches. I feel like I'm stuck in house planning mode. This need to nest and protect and create a home. I don't feel single. I don't feel like I can do whatever I want. I'm stuck. I buy a spatula and tongs along with a Hawaiian Punch. Drive to my grandma's to watch Law & Order (good one btw) and then come home. And here I am.

I no longer hang out in the living room like I did for years when I was married. Now I go to my bedroom. This little sanctuary that I feel safe in. It's funny in that I want to buy things for my bedroom - pretty shams, a bed skirt. I want to make it feel like mine. But the rest of the house ... it's still half-packed, nothing put away and it doesn't bother me. Its' different to me that my life has become this bedroom.

But in the safety of it, with my cat curled next to me, I just feel. This will pass. I will move forward but for now I rest in feeling sad and quiet. Knowing that I have told my ex that there is something about his life I don't want to know about. The first of many things I'm sure. But it's weird to think that this person who I shared everything with now has a part of him that I don't know about. And I guess there is a part of me that he doesn't know about either. I laugh though because well guess what, I write. Everything. And he reads. Everything. But to not have to discuss what I've written with him makes me feel the separation. And that's good.

It's safe to be here now. It's where I need to be. Quiet.