Remembering.

Posted on | June 29, 2011 | 13 Comments

My attorney sends me emails entitled “R v R.”  As though the letters are at war.  As though we stand as equals, squared up to duel it out in the American justice system.  As though we are the same person… “R.”  Both of us “R.”

We were the same once, I think.  We had the same dreams and ideals… at least I believed we did.  We used to hold hands in the car when we took long road trips and I still have the mixed CD he made me when we were dating… the one with”Songs that make me think and dream of you” scrawled across it in red ink.   We made memories on the streets of the Virginia Highlands, kicking leaves at each other and swinging arms, connected in the heart-shaped grasp of our hands.  He told me he loved me just before Christmas and that he knew from the moment he met me that he wanted to marry me.

He wrote me a song called Clear and Blue… after my eyes.  And I wrote him poems about how scared I was to fall for him… to fall for anyone.

When he asked me to marry him, I was so deliriously happy that I thought the world could never hold sadness again.  I thought we’d always be a twosome… even as we expanded our family to three and maybe four… we’d still be just the two of us, somewhere in our hearts.  We got married in the church I grew up in… and I can still see the smile on his face as I entered the back of the sanctuary.  I remember every second of that service because I’m pretty sure we were both laughing throughout the entirety of it.  I remember fighting with him over which arm to hold on the way back down the aisle… man and wife. Forevermore.

I remember the look on his face when we found out I was pregnant and the way he’d roll his eyes when I asked for more chocolate, or milk, or whatever… but then would go and get it for me.  I remember how he looked in the hospital gown and shoes, waiting for the operating room to free up for my c-section, and I remember the curve of his face in the soft half-light of the hospital room as he slept while I nursed our newly born son.

And though I wish I couldn’t,  I remember the spark in his eye when he told me he didn’t love me any longer.  I remember the line of his mouth when he finished talking, when he finished telling me that he wanted to be a better man, but he didn’t want to be a better man with me.  I remember the fall of his lash as he closed his eyes against my tears.

I remember every moment.  I remember how all of it felt.  From the first moment I really noticed him, there on the path between Bond Street and the condo when he stopped and held out his hand, offering assistance to me where none of my guy friends ever did.    I remember every heart flutter of love that started that afternoon… and I remember every hate-filled word, crushing the air from my lungs and bruising my soul on that cool April evening. 

I think it would be easier if there were a way for some one else’s words to take away your feelings.  As though maybe when someone said “I don’t love you” all of your love for them and your memories of their love for you would just float away… and you could part as friends, or strangers.  Because for me, the hardest part of all of this are the memories.  The hardest part is remembering how much I loved him…

And then knowing that he has forgotten.

Comments

13 Responses to “Remembering.”

  1. IdahoGirl
    June 29th, 2011 @ 3:12 pm

    My heart goes out to you.

  2. jess
    June 29th, 2011 @ 3:25 pm

    K, your words are always so beautiful, even in the heartache. I’m thinking of you and say a outflow prayer when I do. You will emerge stronger in all of this. Hugs.

  3. Nellie
    June 29th, 2011 @ 3:47 pm

    I am consistently amazed by your depth of feeling in these posts. You ought to consider writing as a profession, you are remarkable, and though it sounds trite, it will get better.

  4. Sara
    June 29th, 2011 @ 3:57 pm

    My gut wrenches when I read your words sometimes. I’m sorry you have to go through this, remembering.

  5. molly
    June 29th, 2011 @ 4:35 pm

    This post, however gut-wrenchingly painful it was to write, is absolutely beautiful and perfect.

    You write your emotions so well. Keep writing. It is cathartic for you and will be thankful that you wrote these things when happiness comes walking down the street again. Because it will. People always say life is short. But it’s long enough to love again. I believe you will.

  6. Kindred Adventures
    June 29th, 2011 @ 5:06 pm

    It has been a while since I have visited your blog. You writing, like I remember, is talented and beautiful. Yet I am so deeply saddened. I am so sorry. I have no quick wit or powerful words of advice. I only wish that time moves quickly to heal your pain. -Laverne

  7. Jenn
    June 29th, 2011 @ 5:32 pm

    Oh girl. I wish I could say that I don’t know how you feel, but I do. I think you’re on the right path though…. finding your strength and moving on with your life. I think I may need to follow your lead.

  8. Anthony from CharismaticKid
    June 29th, 2011 @ 5:41 pm

    1. He has definitely not forgotten. Guys don’t forget things like that.
    2. There’s so many single men that would love to date you! Go and get ’em!

  9. Janet
    June 30th, 2011 @ 5:39 am

    The fact that you wrote this shows that you are a deep and committed woman. The fact that he left shows that he’s neither deep or committed. Take the time to grieve and heal- remembering is part of that process. My heart hurts for you and I hope this pain will diminish soon. You are a wonderful woman and never forget that.

  10. KLZ
    June 30th, 2011 @ 10:11 am

    Have you been watching “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”?

    I love you. Call whenever you need.

  11. Law Momma
    June 30th, 2011 @ 10:15 am

    I love that movie. Love, love, love it. And I wish I could sign up to have Elijah Wood erase my memories. 🙂

  12. Tara
    June 30th, 2011 @ 10:40 pm

    I want to say something supportive. But I’m too sad about how our realities are nearly identical. Neither of us deserved this.

    I keep wondering when things will get better. When I’ll feel “normal” again. When I won’t keep waking up each morning wondering what happened to my life. Wondering how this man, who was the train wreck in the relationship, felt compelled to dump ME.

    Eh. Need to stop writing.

    Just know I’m thinking about you.

  13. Lyndsay
    August 16th, 2011 @ 9:29 am

    I’ve been working my way backwards through your blog since finding it last night. I fear my own marriage may be following the same path… I fear that I’m only a few months behind you…

    Sending positive energy your way.

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