Monday, January 23, 2017

Closure is over-rated - choose LIFE!



I can't (I can) believe it has been over a year and a half since I warbled a bitter sweet song of love or fear to my little hidden away space on t'internet.  I have come to regard this place as a true non-judgemental and loyal confidante.  I neglect it, don't call it, never visit and yet there it still is for me when I need it.  And a jolly good thing too.  In having this outlet where I can act with total arrogance and self- entitlement, I spare all (most) of my real life confidantes from the same treatment - at least I hope I do. My friends are shaking their heads,eyebrows halfway up their foreheads...wondering if I'm perhaps writing this from within a parallel universe.    

Today's musings are more a loose catch-up with myself.  So much has happened of an intense nature that the experiences, as is always the case, can really only yield value in hindsight.  Had I written up those thoughts at the time, well, this would have been little more than the confused babbling of a disturbed mind.  Much better to have ploughed destructively through the gut-wrenching experiences first, extract the lessons and then impart the deliciously satisfying tiding that (drum-roll): There is life after loss. In my case the loss took the form of the painful end of a marriage in the savage jaws of betrayal.  I'm not the first person or last that will experience the shock-inducing, stupefying effects of this and I want to tell anyone going through this that closure will come when you least expect it and in the most extraordinarily understated way. So don't live your life for closure.  It's satisfying when it comes but ultimately an underwhelming event.  In the meantime, it really is important that you keep putting one foot in front of the other as mindfully as you can.

You will find along the way, life happens.

I will tell you that when I left the central court knowing that Decree Absolut was a fait accompli, I sat in a small courtyard round the back of the building as if anaesthetised.  The tears came of course as did the soothing acknowledgement that the rollercoaster years were over.  The fret inducing terror of the unknown had come to an end. A true fresh start ready for me to green light had appeared.

But don't get yourself all tangled up in the existential part of this.  Let me get to the storytelling part. One of the reasons behind this epiphany that life really does go on has to do of course with a man.  A new man.  I met him under the most unexpected circumstances just 6 months after my separation and while I was in the deepest, clammiest of emotional holes.  The details of  how we connected are actually not that interesting.  The point is that I ended up accepting a blind date which meant nothing more to me than something to do on a Saturday afternoon.  It was a welcome change to the agony of mediation and divorce paperwork.  It was not love at first sight - at all.  I wasn't really expecting that but I'm an 80s child and I can't help thinking in John Hughes movie metaphors.  Pretty in Pink it wasn't.

It seemingly got worse in that it appeared zero thought had gone into the date as we ended up in the pub across from the tube station. This was most definitely an interview for the potential position of girlfriend.  The woo-ing would possibly come after - IF I passed muster.

Like I said, it beat filling out financial statement forms.  But then the most extraordinary thing happened.  This man, who was not at all my type, lived a life worlds apart from mine in a lovely little shire-based village to my zone 2 compact-living mania, was really easy to talk to.  I took the whole of him in as we talked and talked and talked.  No spark and yet...a kindness, a comfort.  There was nothing flashy about him and I in retrospect I loved that. A year and a half later, we were to all extent and purposes together.

It was an amazing, enriching, sensual time.  No-one really bought us as a couple - including ourselves to be fair.  We were polar opposites in everything from appearance to interests.  Eventually, of course it had to end...we were travelling at different speeds.  I was simultaneously navigating the shipwrecking winds of divorce which meant I kept slamming the breaks on.  I don't regret that, I do regret the times when I was not kind - but that is what pressure and stress does.  Meanwhile he had long ridden away from the shackles of his past and was more than a few relationships into his "life after X".  He was an old hand.

When my divorce finally came through, I found myself wondering in that courtyard, through the tears why I hadn't met this man then...I could have saved us a few stupid arguments borne out of nothing more than fear and stress, but lessons are not truly assimilated if they come too easy.  I know that much.  I admitted to myself that I had been a blowtorch to be with at times - but cut me some slack - I was after all going through the Dog Days.   I thought about this unlikely suitor who had stuck for the most part with me the past year and a bit.  I only wish that he could have seen that moment for himself, perhaps he would have been a little less insecure about us and a little more understanding about me.  Still I acknowledge, I've purged and I've pledged and that is more than many would manage.  I forgive myself - if only he would too.

True love makes allowances. True love waits.  So this was not it - but it sure was incredible and it taught me that I'm still all woman.  And for that I'm extremely grateful.

I have learnt then that it stands us all in good stead to embrace the inescapable fact that life is but a series of ups and downs.  We would be wise to enjoy those ups without trying to second-guess the downs.  But then without the downs ...ah you get my drift.  It's a Catch 22 - what can I tell ya?  You can no more prevent this cycle than you can prevent the effects of ageing,

Just don't waste your time looking or waiting for closure - life sure as hell doesn't.  Accept, forgive and move on.