Funny, I was in the kitchen doing dishes last week, Maisy was in the living room watching Dinosaur Train… the episode was about anniversaries. It donned on me that it was the anniversary of when we finally met in person. This was a big day in years’ past, but in light of the paths we’ve chosen, it nearly went without notice. I have to be honest, that was a pinch at reality for me. I’m in auto mode, and though appearance-wise, I am dealing with the impending divorce with surprising ease and comfort, the truth of the matter is, I’m not really dealing with anything at all. When I think about being alone, it is in the context that, “I can have a desk in the bedroom again”, “When I get up in the morning, I won’t have to worry about waking anyone”, “I can come home and leave home when I want”, “I can work late and not have it ruin someone’s evening”. After about a day of all these claims coming to fruition – I will be left to deal with the idea that I am alone. I don’t have someone waiting for me, I don’t have someone to talk to everyday… and the idea of that sucks. Knowing that I could put on headphones and listen to music and not have to worry about missing a call is far more sad than it is liberating. That ‘pinch’ on our anniversary was a glimpse at how my brain is going to process the aftermath, and a reminder that I am currently not preparing or coping with it in the least.
Do I still have friends here without Maisy? I am not an artist, and that essentially constitutes our friends as a whole: artists. The belief among them is that I will simply disappear, and I don’t want to validate that assumption. I also don’t want a pity party, or a lot of awkward time spent at art events. So much of who I am has been as a supporter and provider to Maisy, that I imagine it would be hard for anyone that knows me on a social level to pin me down or describe me.
It goes back to having to find my passion for something, and connect with people thru that interest. Being myself should be enough, and if I don’t connect with people on that level, then I am among the wrong people. There is a handful of people I could certainly imagine connecting with, but there’s an arm’s length between us. I don’t think that connection is reciprocated. Mikey, Tracy, Ed, Ralph, Eric, Dillon – these are people I am beginning to be comfortable with; but I think that their love and support of Maisy makes things strange, and the knowledge that she’s leaving is furthering that awkwardness.
Complicating everything is the attitude my mom has taken. Similar to my days of always being in trouble: the air of disappointment and annoyance. I don’t know what I can tell her except to continue to be positive whenever we speak. Part of it is probably worry, knowing that in years’ past when left to my own devices – those devices were of a less than productive nature,
The one person I could seriously sit and talk to and get some support from is far-the-fuck away. Besides being happily married, the weight of the world is on his shoulders right now, and furthering burdening him with this seems cruel.
I’ve no succinct way to wrap all of this up. Making distance now is a poor choice, because I miss out on the time we have left and it makes the remaining days sad instead of fun; obliviously prancing into tomorrow seems reckless because then I am not coping or preparing myself for eventualities; putting on a brave face and accepting everything as it presents itself is the best I can do right now.
