I am redirecting my mail online. The mouse hovers between "temporary" and "permanent". The Australia Post site tells me, "For a permanent move, you are not planning to return to your old address". The truth is, I don't know, but at the moment I have no plans to ever return, except to pack up more fully and prepare the house and garden for sale.
El Prima and I are separating. It is sad, but my heart is lighter than it has been in years. I know this is the right thing. I spent so long closing off this possibility from myself, telling myself I couldn't follow in my parents' footsteps and have a marriage fail, subject my children to divorce. But fear of the messiness of separation can't in itself hold a relationship together - not without centring our whole lives on fear, resignation, bitterness. We tried really hard. We cleaned the slate again and again but each time my heart was less willing to trust, it had to be cajoled, it grew weary and more skeptical. And despite all the things I love about El Prima, I was not willing to live like that. I didn't want Z's legacy in our lives to be relationship breakdown. But I know now that none of this was her fault, and that she sings in our hearts when we are happy - she deserves more of that. We deserve more of that.
It feels appropriate that this is happening in winter. I'm not sleeping very well at the moment and have been waking up early, doing quiet yoga in the dark on our friend's carpet where Ali and I are staying. In those quiet dark hours, I meditate. I make lists. I remember what it is like to be myself.
We will make it amicable. We will put the kids first. We'll have to figure out what to do with Z's little pomegranite tree in our front yard.
unexpectedly - I’m reading and his name crops up. “Freddie”. Tucked into the also ran prose of my current book, a little local colour, a little added detail. On this ...
3 days ago