Yesterday, I walked with a friend of mine. A friend, also divorced. Getting divorced is horrible, we agreed. But being divorced is phenomenal.
“I wish I hadn’t had to go through that to become this person, I wish it hadn’t happened at all. But I like this person very much and I don’t know that I could have become her otherwise.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
“It’s nice to be yourself, alone.”
…
Perhaps one day you will be married and you will start fighting over a trashcan liner and it will never be about a garbage bag, it will be about compassion and empathy. And it will never be about compassion and empathy either. It will be about feeling seen. You will tell your friends that you ask for so little and he still can’t do it. “Will anyone ever love me enough to do the minimum?” Probably not, you’ll think. Perhaps he will say the same thing to his shrink because it’s not like you’re communicating with each other, it’s not like he even knows how upset you are but now you’re too upset to tell him. And you love him so much, so very much you would die for him. And then you’ll look in the mirror and into the future and tomorrow and tomorrow and forty years of tomorrows and that’s too many to do this and you’ll realize that loving someone enough to die for them isn’t the same as loving someone enough to kill yourself for them.
I promised someone my entire life and then they made mistakes and I did too. And the process was horrible. The process was so horrible that I cannot write about it without invoking cliches. But now I can look at anybody with confidence. I dissolved my vows. I will never put up with your shit.
But I still wish it hadn’t happened at all. Knowing your capabilities is a double edged sword.