So the mediation went better than I was expecting, but as I was driving away from that city where I spent the last three years of my marriage, I felt relief, yes, but also an intense aching in my bones and a deep, deep tiredness.
When I got to my friend, Cherry’s house, about three hours down the road, I told her that I felt like I had been hit by a bus.
Well, you have, she said. You’ve been hit by the divorce bus.
Another thing I noticed as I was driving away from the mediation was that the feelings I was having were not just about the most recent past, about this whole mediation agony, but about my entire relationship with X. It felt like the book was shutting on that. Our relationship has certainly been in it’s end stage for a while now, but this truly feels like the beginning of the end.
I don’t know what it’s like to be in any other marriage. I only know what it was like to be in mine. And this ending, this divorce, as bad as the marriage was, as detrimental as my entire relationship with X was to my very person, this divorce feels like a ripping out of something that has grown deep within me. Something that has grown deep within and set in roots. And ripping it out now, like a common weed, well, it feels like a lot of me is getting ripped out, also.
As dysfunctional as we were, maybe because we were so dysfunctional, I put so much energy, so very much energy into us, into keeping us going, into making him happy, into saving us. The me was forgotten. And now the me is all that’s left.