Thursday, February 12, 2009

Making it Official



It's funny how when something new comes along how easy it is to let go. I finally went to see a lawyer to draw up the papers for the divorce.

Divorce was something I had been putting off for months. Even though I had moved out, even though I had started and ended another relationship -- and ended it - with Berlin. Even though I knew I was happier on my own, and I was rebuilding my life and my independence, I just couldn't quite manage to make it official.

I had been thinking about selling my engagement ring. In November, I sent the paperwork to the jeweler where we bought it from to see what kind of offer I could get. I got a decent response - but then I panicked. I would take that ring out of its satin box and hold it in my hand. Feel the weight of it in my palm, cool metal against my skin. I would turn it over between my fingers and look at the detail of the engraving and tears would well up in my eyes. There was so much promise in that ring. So much hope for a future different from my present reality. So much lost.

I even put it on a few times, holding my hand out in front of me, remembering the first time I wore it, showing it off to my friends in the silly girlish ritual of engagement goofiness. I remembered how, when I was out alone, men would give me flirtatious looks until I casually lifted my left hand into view so they could see that I was already spoken for.

It's hard to say exactly why I couldn't fully walk away- but I guess I was just scared. Scared that I was making a mistake -- that I was deluding myself into thinking there was something better out there for me. Maybe this was it. This was all I was going to get. Maybe we all just have to do the best we can wit the cards we're dealt.

In my heart I never truly believed that. I always kept one eye on my source of secret inner strength - my belief that there was love and happiness out there for me that could be completely fulfilling, someone that could fill me to overflowing and surpass my expectations. But the seeds of self-doubt can creep in at the most unexpected moments, making me waver in my resolve to forge ahead into the great unknown for the ultimate prize. I suppose none of us is perfect.

So I held onto that ring. And I held onto my marriage. If for no other reason than I was too weak to stand alone and face the possibility of a lifetime of me against the world. I wanted to hold someone's hand and face it together. I didn't want to do it all alone. I couldn't. Not yet.

But love changes everything. Someone is holding my hand and telling me its OK to let go. Telling me they'll face the world with me, and it's time to put the past behind me. And suddenly I wasn't scared anymore. I wasn't afraid to say goodbye to the ring, or the dreams it had once represented. So I called the jeweler back. then I called the lawyer and made an appointment. Then I called my husband and told him.

I can't say that he was happy about it, but all in all he took it pretty well. There were only a few pretty harmless rounds of him blaming me for our current financial disaster, and then accusing me of running off when the going got tough. Of course he was lashing out as a result of his own grief. I reminded myself that I had spent a lot of time thinking about this, getting used to the idea. And that I now had someone to hold my hand -- but he didn't. It was going to be harder for him. I was going to have to be the stronger one.

He agreed to all the terms - which is to say he keeps his stuff, I keep mine - and we part as friends. I told him I planned to sell the ring in order to pay the lawyer and that I would cover all the expenses. He wanted to know whether I would try to take the dogs from him and I almost couldn't believe my ears. I love those dogs like children, but I know he loves them too - and as much as it kills me, I know that he is better equipped to care for them at the moment than I am. Of course I would let him keep the dogs.

And there it was. A ring, a lawyer, an agreement, a handshake and new life. I have never felt so free.

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