Photo by Roger M. Richards
The above photo, taken by my wildly talented and Pulitzer-nominated friend, shows a very different face than the one writing this blog. My eyes are swollen from a lack of sleep and from far too much crying.
Bottom line: My great love and I have ended our 25-year relationship that really saw too many twists and turns: Misunderstandings, really bad and self-centered choices by us both, my insecurity when we pivoted to an LDR, and my doing some serious self-reflection about my own failings. Sadly, that reflection was too late in his eyes.
One of us suggested counseling that never manifested.
We are seeking a path forward as the best of friends who will look at a couple collaborations.
But honestly?
I’ve no clue how to even begin to do that. Be a best friend with the person I once wanted to marry, whose very DNA is buried in my bones? The person who’s been my rock even we we didn’t give our best to each other? My anchor in the storm…
As I sit in continued shock and grief, I took a bold step and told him we need to release the pet names of the past. There were several. I’d always awaken to a text that began something like, “Good morning, Beautiful!” I loved those texts but didn’t always reply as I should have because I held a lot of anger over a decision he made years ago (nothing involving another woman). Still, I loved those morning texts.
As of today, at my request, we return to our given names. I’m a friend now. My name is Amy.
I don’t know how to do this, and it will be a while before I can truly give it a whirl, but how does one go from that love–even if it is beaten up in some areas–to reverting to great friendship?
It was HIS face that held me up as I delivered my father’s eulogy. It was HIS voice that brought me comfort every night in our phone or FaceTime calls. It was HIM to whom I turned when my heart was broken over something within my family. It was HIM that at one time I wanted to go running down the aisle to join our hearts in marriage.
We both failed. We admitted that.
But at the core of everything was our friendship that thrived on curiosity, exploring, sharing our ups and downs, laughter, and our children that mean the world to us.
I’ve no clue how to start this path, but the friendship means so much to me, and perhaps without the addition of romance, we can grow back into a thriving friendship. Some would say the cord needs cutting, but this is my life, and only I can decide that if and when.
For now, I move slowly through my days, getting my work done and getting rid of things. I am planning to head to NC and SC next month to visit some cousins and to celebrate my son’s birthday. I am going to use my timeshare somewhere this spring. I will celebrate my granddaughter’s high school graduation in May. I will return to Hawaii this summer, and in late fall, a friend and I are planning a trip to Europe.
When my husband was killed, my world was flipped upside down. This is worse. I have no little boys on whom to focus, and it’s the closest thing I have to a divorce. It’s a living death, and it scorches my heart.
Trauma and how we allow it to affect our relationships and lives is a bitch.
I will somehow figure things out, but damn, I am so effing tired of grief.
Goodbye, Beautiful. Hello, Amy.
Amy Walton is a writer, among other things, and is grateful for the bounty of friends in her life. Connect with her at amywaltoncoaching@gmail.com