I miss MS. There isn’t any other way around it, so I might as well just acknowledge it. My heart aches for him – more than it ever ached for my husband when our marriage was ending. My relationship with MS is something different, something more, something special.
I sent him an email last Saturday night telling him how much I am struggling – how lost I feel and how I am hurting. I know he isn’t ignoring me, but to go from very regular contact via phone calls and texts back to emails a few times a week has been hard for me… He wrote back on Monday morning, acknowledging my pain, and letting me know how much he is hurting too – and hurting for the pain that he knows he is causing me.
He says he still believes that we were brought together for a reason, and that he is not leaving me. That he cannot imagine a world in which he could forget about me or let me go. That his distance right now is so that he can set things in the right order.
Pieces of his email resonated strongly with me. All of it helped to lift the weight that has settled on my shoulders.
“It hurts me to know that this is causing such great suffering for you. It hurts to be apart from you, too.”
“It isn’t that the separation FROM you is positive but that I am not doing things out of order. I need to be responsible and upright.”
“I know that you were brought into my life for a reason.” “This love is real and I need to not pollute that or denigrate it by my premature actions.” “This is not to say that I am leaving you or that I have left. I haven’t. You are very much in my heart.”
“Like you, I never said a word to you that I did not mean.”
“You deserve your love to be fully separated from all entanglements and to be fully in you.”
“We are moving to the place where we need to be. We do need to be healthy and we are heading there.”
“I can only give to you what I, myself allow and that is that you and I didn’t meet by happenstance and that I know that there is meaning in our connection.”
We spoke more via email that morning, and worked through some of the hurts – the fact that I still hate when he calls himself an asshole.
The fact that it grates at him when I refer to “the rules,” as I try to understand the boundaries of our current reality. He feels like “rules” means that he is imposing arbitrary BS on our relationship to manipulate the situation as he sees fit. Which isn’t actually what I ever meant when I said “rules,” and he knows that. He admits that it is his own sensitivity to the connotation of the word that feeds his reaction.
I know he is dealing with depression. I know that all of this is hurting him deeply too. He is struggling – his absences come from a place of needing to retreat to process things. His emotions are so raw and powerful that there are times with me that he cannot contain them, and he has trouble working through things when the tears and pain are so overpowering.
I hate that he finds it so difficult to offer himself the forgiveness and grace that he offers so easily to others. He made sure to tell me again that he only sees purity and good in our relationship and intimacy. That he only sees good in me. That his judgment is directed at himself alone. And that it what he must work through, to avoid bringing that guilt and judgment into our future.
So, in the meanwhile, I continue to try to make it through my day to day. My rapidly approaching divorce mediation, the challenges at work, having some things with friends and family to look forward too. There are those things, even though I haven’t had the energy to blog yet about those. There are lights on the horizon to move towards. I am not putting my life on hold.
Yet I still miss my kindred spirit. I miss my sounding board. Terribly.