In Retrospect

Act I
I'm not sure we really loved each other.  To be perfectly honest, I can't remember. It was simply the natural progression of things - you date, you live together, you marry.  It was expected.  You get used to it - like an old shoe.

He wasn't an intellectual, but he was tall, dark and handsome and occasionally funny.  He liked the things my father liked - hunting and fishing - which for some reason mattered to me back then.  More importantly, he liked me.  Most importantly, he needed me.  And who knows when you're ever going to find that again...

At the time I must have figured it was going to be my only shot... or maybe I just didn't give it enough thought.  The idea that I could ever have expected it to be a long-term self-sustaining relationship boggles my mind when I think of it now.  I spent more time feeling embarrassed than anything else.  It was dull and ordinary and stifling and lonely.  Who to talk to?  Who to share things with?

I offer no excuse for my decision to marry; I expect no sympathy; I knew better. Yet, oddly, when it ended, I wanted to die.  I distinctly remember my shock when I discovered heartache was an actual physical feeling.  I distinctly remember my shock when I discovered I couldn't sleep or eat for weeks on end. I'd always thought that stuff was a bunch of crap written in novels to drive home a point. I didn't know I would lose years of my life to it.  Who knew?

Act II
No more boredom.  No more thinking, "Is this all there is?"  No more feeling like I was destined to spend a lifetime alternately correcting grammar and biting my tongue.  Now it was time for  FUN, FUN, FUN!!!  Laughter, conversation, drugs, debauchery, bars, loud music, parties.  He was bright.  More importantly, he liked me.  Most importantly, he needed me. And who knows when you're ever going to find that again...

He was a drunk and I was going to save him.  I wish I could say I was successful.  I wish I could say my dedication, loyalty and perseverance made a difference.  I wish I had been smart enough to know better.  I distinctly remember my shock when I discovered women really do stay with men who mistreat them.  I'd always thought that stuff was a bunch of crap in made-for-tv movies to show stupid damsels in distress.  I didn't know I would lose years of my life to it.  Who knew?

Act III
The antithesis of the tsunami that preceded it.  CALM, CALM, CALM.  Dead calm. Not a tranquil, serene calm; more like a dispassionate, detached, taciturn calm.

But he was bright.  More importantly, he liked me.  Most importantly, he needed me.  And who knows when you're ever going to find that again...

I'm not sure if I disappeared because of postpartum depression or because I lived with a ghost.  Probably a combination of both.  I didn't know I'd lose years of my life to it.  Who knew?  But I got my son out of the deal, so it was worth it.

Act IV
What I've learned:

1. If you find you dread walking into your own home, it's time to get out.
2. You can be infinitely happier alone than with someone.
3. I'm an idiot when it comes to affairs of the heart.  I'm not convinced I've ever even had an affair of the heart.  I suspect it is a storybook myth.
4. Marriage is entirely unnecessary.
5. People who need you are a dime a dozen, and being liked and needed is not the basis for a relationship.  Yes, it feels good to be needed, but it is not a measure of love.  If your self-worth is tied up in it you will end up losing who you are and what you want.
6. Love cannot cure addiction.
7. The passive part of a passive-aggressive person can be even more devastating than the aggressive part.  Either way it sucks the life right out of you.
8. The old adage "turn the other cheek" is not always the wisest course.  Once you've been hurt - once hateful words have been spoken and the line has been crossed - the relationship is forever changed.  Whether it's your husband, your boyfriend or your next door neighbor, when someone loses control and you get a momentary glimpse of their true colors it is not an aberration, it is a warning.  I now realize tolerance doesn't necessarily make you a good person (in fact it can make you a chump) and it is wise never to forget.  Not in a bitter take-it-to-your-grave sort of way, but in a sad now-I-know-better-than-to-love-and-trust-you sort of way. 

Is this wisdom or pessimism?  Good question.  I'm going to go with wisdom.

Act V
I'll let you know.