Days like today

Days like today are hard. 

Timehop and Facebook memories can be a wonderful thing. I love checking my memories each day to see what I was doing and posting about one year ago ,3 years ago, 10 years ago on this day. I especially love looking at old pictures! 

But on some days, like today, I don't want to open those apps at all. I don't want to be reminded about what happened on this day 10 years ago. I don't want to see the pictures. Because on days like today, it's just too painful. 

Ten years ago today, Austin and I were married. 

We were young, and in love, and happy, and naive about the world. I can remember all the nervous, excited jitters thinking, "This is it. This is my forever." Because that's what I thought it would be. It was what we had both planned for. What we expected. 

But marriage is hard. Life is hard. We learned that quickly. But we managed to still survive it together. We were still us. 

Then, life got hard. And we started to become less of 'us'. And it continued to get harder until we were no longer an 'us' at all. And that was devastating and heartbreaking because it was always suppose to be us. 

Only it didn't stop there. Life continued to be so hard that eventually we became so unlike anything else we had ever been, so far removed from the 'us' we once were. And then, one of us was gone forever. 

This was not the life I imaged on this day ten years ago. This is not what I wanted, not what I had hoped for and prayed for. And yet, this is where I am. 

Looking back on this day ten years ago, seeing the pictures of two happy and in love people who no longer exist... that's painful. Reading the sappy anniversary posts we wrote for each other... those make me incredibly sad. 

And then there was this post. From three years ago, on our seventh wedding anniversary. And the last anniversary we would celebrate. 

I remember first reading this post and being filled with a hopeful joy and love. I remember thinking maybe this could be where we turn it around. I thought we still had a chance at us. 

But now, when I read this post, I feel regret. I feel dread. I feel shame. Because when I read this, I can't help but feel like I gave up on AJ. Like I let him down. Like I failed him.

Before you all start yelling, I know logically, that what happened to AJ was not my fault. I know that. He made his own choices. But just because you know something, doesn't mean your feelings will agree. 

Things got too hard, too difficult. I needed to do what was right and healthy for Jacob and I.

But I also got too angry. I completely let go of the us that we had been and any resemblance of us. 

And then he was gone. Forever.

I lost any chance that we could be an 'us' again. I lost the hope that I had clung to, deep inside, that one day we would find our way back together again. Any dream I had about us in the future was abruptly taken from me. And that's what I'm left with now.

An incomplete us. 

The Second Un-Anniversary...

Today was the second Un-Anniversary. My Facebook memories and TimeHop app bombarded me with pictures and happiness and well wishes and sappy posts. 

It was just one year ago, I wrote about the First Un-Anniversary. I made myself reread it today. 

I wrote about how last year at this time, I was grieving the loss of my marriage. 

I'm mourning. Grieving. It's a strange sort of loss to experience. I've lost something and someone that was so much a part of me, who I loved incredibly much. But in the physical sense, you're still here. I still see you, talk to you. Sometimes it feels like my grief will be a like a wound, reopening every time I interact with you, never able to completely heal. 

And here I am, one year later. Still grieving. But in an entirely new sense. I'm grieving the physical loss of that man. The man I once called my best friend, my husband, the father of my child. In a way, it's like I'm experiencing this Un-Anniversary all over for the first time again. 

I'll admit I didn't dwell on this day as it approached. Maybe because I knew it would do no good. Maybe because I've kept myself too busy to think about anything. I even managed most of the day without dwelling on what this day was. And then I let myself into that space. 

Re-reading last year's blog post. Seeing our wedding pictures. Seeing the old Facebook posts from family and friends, the sappy posts we wrote for each other. Thinking about all that you're missing. Singing songs that we've sung together at church tonight. Watching our amazing little boy run around. And my heart aches. 

And I know that this grief is like a whole new wound. One that will continue to reopen. I know that I will still need to take things one day at a time. I know that I need to let go of things and move on. 

But I also know that missing you will never go away. That loving you will never go away. I know that you will always be a part of Jacob's and my life, somehow. But the fact that you're no longer physically here, well it physically hurts some days. Today was one of those days. 

The first Un-Anniversary

I've been thinking about this day a lot. Watching it come closer... for close to two months. If were you were to ask me back then how I thought I might feel about this day, I wouldn't be able to tell you. I think it was probably a mixture of mourning, regret, sadness... 

I never thought this would be my life. I never imagined myself divorced. I feel comfortable saying the divorce was what needed to happen. But it still pains me to think back over the past 10 years and remember what use to be. 

There definitely was a lot of love. A lot of great memories. And best of all, our amazing  and incredible son. 

Now I have these moments... moments that are both pleasant and unpleasant. Moments when I see a funny meme on Facebook or something and you'd normally be the first person I'd send it to. Or I'll make some 'Friends' reference only to remember that you're not there to appreciate it. I'll find something I know you'll like but realize it's not my place anymore to get it for you. A song will trigger some old memory of some great experience we had and I'll wish that we could do something similar again before understanding we can't. 

It's those sorts of things that sometimes hurt the most. The little, normal every day things. It's those types of thoughts and feelings I have that make me wonder how many years they'll continue to happen. I wonder if you have those moments too.

Then there are those more obvious signs... an expiration date on my bag of chips that is our wedding date. A bible verse from our wedding, beautifully written on a lovely floral fall print. Wedding pictures showing up on social media's time-vault apps. 

For me, it comes in waves. And seemingly out of nowhere. The absolute feeling of loss and sorrow comes crashing over me. Sometimes it feels like I might drown.

The time we were together, absolutely every thing was intertwined. Everything was connected. There are no memories that don't include you. And we'll never be able to go back to that. At least not in the same way. And that... hurts deep. I mourn the loss of our life together. I mourn the loss of our relationship. I mourn the loss of what could have been. 

We both made mistakes. I'm sure we both have regrets. I know I do.

I feel like October 24th is going to always be a weird sort of day. It will always have a place in my heart. A day to remember all the good. All the things I wouldn't change. All the love we had for each other. But I feel like it will be a day to mourn as well.

I read this quote from another article and it states exactly what I feel:

"I always wonder what to do that day. Clearly there isn’t an anniversary to celebrate, but it seems somehow wrong to just let the day go by without any acknowledgement of what that day represents."

Since this will be the first "Un-Anniversary", I can't tell you yet how the day went, what I did or what I felt. But the writer of that article goes on to write about what her "Un-Anniversaries" have been like...

"For me, the day represents a loss of many hopes and dreams, plans that were never made, adventures that will never be gone on, and a life that turned out differently than I had expected. My un-anniversary is not a happy day, but a day that fills me with sadness and regret."

Those absolutely hit home. I feel like the day could be both filled with celebration and  mourning. Celebrate what once what and what it brought us and mourn what no longer is and what the future will not be.

As the days inch closer, that feeling of loss grows stronger. I find myself dwelling on the loss. I think about that beautiful stained glass hanging and wonder if it will ever see sunlight again. I think about the wedding scrapbook I started but will probably never finish now. 

I'm mourning. Grieving. Lamenting. It's a strange sort of loss to experience. I've lost something and someone that was so much a part of me, who I loved incredibly much. But in the physical sense, you're still here. I still see you, talk to you. Sometimes it feels like my grief will be like a wound, reopening every time I interact with you, never able to completely heal. 

In addition to mourning the loss of our relationship, I ache over the loss of other relationships that have faded after the divorce. Relationships with your family. With people I loved as my own family. I haven't stopped loving your family. Just as you and I are in this awkward stage of maneuvering this new relationship, the same goes to your family I think. And I get it. They're your family. There are sides to these things. But I've really been feeling that loss lately. I don't know what's appropriate to say or do. 

I feel like I'm starting to ramble... Every day it seems there is some sort of new feeling, new decision to be made, new reaction to what we've done. I don't know what our lives look like going forward. But I know that if we can maybe just take things day by day, things will start to feel like a new normal.

But until then, I'll raise a glass. To the first Un-Anniversary.