Yesterday, one of the next-door-neighbor boys asked me if I missed "Mr. Dave." He didn't know that a year ago today was the day I got in my car and drove away from my marriage. He's just a little kid; he doesn't understand that he had asked a potentially painful question.
So, do I miss "Mr. Dave?" I honestly don't know. I miss the Dave I thought I was married to. I do miss being partnered. It's a peculiar day. I'm not wildly sad, or gleefully triumphant that I have made something of my life without him -more than I could have made with him, apparently. But it's not just another day, either.
So, what do I know?
I know that I owe another huge thank you to all my friends and family. Certainly, certainly that.
I know that lonely-alone is better than lonely-together. The emotionally distant and even emotionally absent Dave can stay far away from me. I don't miss him at all.
I'm gratified that I've been able to make a life for myself. There's certainly no "take THAT, you philandering jerk" triumph, but there's a glimmer of pleasure through the exhaustion.
I know I am not as broken as I was a year ago. I sometimes fear that that level of brokenness is waiting right around the corner, though. Tears are still very near the surface -always. Brokenness doesn't feel quite so far away to me as it perhaps looks from your persepctive.
I guess I'm just sitting quietly today, doing my school work and puttering in my kitchen. I did -quite by accident- take a few days off this week. Perhaps my subconscious was at work there, because I didn't think to plan them around this anniversary. Yet, I'm glad that I did it. I feel a pretty strong need for some quiet nesting in my cozy (if more than slightly messy) house.