Long December

It’s been 139 days since I found out about my husband’s multiple affairs throughout our marriage.

 

Some days I feel filled to overflowing with love for him.  Some days I look at him and my heart is heavy with the reality of it all and I wonder what on earth I’m doing still with this man, because clearly no marriage can survive this.  Sometime I believe that love always wins, and sometimes I get online and shop for an apartment for myself because I just need to run away and be alone for a while.  Sometimes I just can’t stop kissing him and sometimes I want to throat punch him in his sleep.

 

I think all of these feelings are healthy.

 

I just survived the longest December of my life.  It was a rough one.  So many times I really did not know if our family would make it Christmas in tact.  Being the monster Counting Crows fan that I am of course I can’t help but hear Long December playing in my mind as I reflect back.  Adam Duritz wrote that song in the wee hours of the morning while going through a stressful couple of months when he was making his second album. He had been spending much of his time with his friend, Jennifer, who was in the hospital in critical condition having been run over by a car.  I’ve said so many times I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck and I’m just lying here broken and healing is so slow and I hate that there’s really nothing I can do to speed it up.  Healing takes time and if you haven’t been through this you would be amazed how much physical energy goes into healing an emotional wound of this magnitude.  I feel like I can relate to his friend in that way and I can see my husband in Adam’s roll… going through a challenging time, overworked and exhausted and pulled in different directions, having his own “project” (recovery) to work on but always showing up for me anyway.  Just showing up and sitting with me while I lay here broken.  “The smell of hospitals in winter, And the feeling that it’s all a lot of oysters, but no pearls.”  Oh, I feel like that so often.  Life has been cruel.  “A long December and there’s reason to believe, Maybe this year will be better than the last.”  I so hope that it will be.  I mean I really hope, because I know that though life is cruel, God is good.  Adam said, “It’s a song about looking back on your life and seeing changes happening, and for once for me, looking forward and thinking, ya know, things are gonna change for the better – ‘maybe this year will be better than the last’ – and so, like a lot of songs on the end of an album it’s not about everything turning out great, but it at least it is about hope… and the possibilities…”

 

Most days the possibility of hope, the hope for hope, is all I’m hanging by. Today I have hope; today is a good day.  Tomorrow will likely be less hopeful, and that’s okay.  Everything is as it should be.  It’s absolutely terrible, it’s a nightmare, its heavy and usually unbearable, and it takes more strength than anyone would ever have on their own.  I wouldn’t wish a moment of this on anyone- not even the women who took my husband.  No one should ever have to endure this, but it happened and I can’t change it.  I can only choose what I can choose.  I can decide each day if I love this man enough that I am willing to endure this with him, because leaving would be SO much easier.  Repairing a relationship after so many lies and so much damage has been done, repairing it with 2 completely broken people who are working hard just to repair themselves individually, sometimes it doesn’t even seem possible.

“A perfect marriage is just two imperfect people who refuse to give up on each other.”

If this is true, and I believe that it is, then we were perfect today.  Perfectly imperfect and that is the best any of us can be.  Today we chose what our hearts told us was best, and that was to stay together.  Anytime we follow our hearts we are living perfectly.  If my heart told me to let go of this marriage I would say the same.  My instincts have yet to ever lead me in the wrong direction and I intend to always follow them.  As long as I do that there is hope in at least one of her forms.

 

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(This entry was written 139 days after D-day on January 3, 2017)

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