Facing the Loneliness of Missing You – with an Exchange Student

I really thought the days of writing here were over. I thought we had finally found ourselves in the same place and we were going to be that way forever. You know what they say though – if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.

So, here I sit – alone on our bed, surrounded by books with country music playing louder than it should be if I am supposed to be studying. It’s been a tough week and that makes this distance even harder. I want to ask how we got here again, but I know that answer. This was not an easy decision. There were a lot of tears and moments I really thought I couldn’t go through with it, but you were so supportive, encouraging me to step outside our comfort zone and see what God was leading me to. read all around me. You would follow me as fast as you could.

Part of me knew that wouldn’t be a quick or easy process; We endured this process twice before. Getting you back in the states was probably the easiest compared to getting you back with me. Selling our house… my dream home. Holding you one last time before I loaded up the car and drove to our new residence. Crying and begging God to please not let this take as long as the last one. The long lonely nights of missing you so much… no one to tell me I’m safe when a nightmare wakes me, or to go investigate when the dog jumps up in the middle of the night after a noise wakes him. No one to wash my back or massage my feet while we snuggle on the couch to watch a movie. I think one of the things I miss most is looking out the window, watching you mow our grass. I know you never understood that, but that was one of my favorite sights. You’d come in fussing you were hot and sweaty and all I wanted was to pull you close and show you how grateful I was for your heart. There was no stink or sweat… only the love of my life, standing there, drinking a tall glass of something cold and looking like everything I wanted for the rest of my life. And yet… here I sit listening to Jordan Davis singing about a midnight crisis and doing my best to pretend that I am studying.

The loneliness was overwhelming in November so we agreed that despite our instance on taking some time off, I would host another exchange student. This was supposed to make me feel like getting up and living some sort of life without you here. I wish we had stuck to the no vote. This one has been nothing but a struggle from the beginning. You’d think by number 7 we would have had a good plan on what to expect, but this one…

I got the call that there was a young Thai girl struggling with her placement and really needing a fresh start, someone to love her and give her some support. I should have asked more questions. I should have read her paperwork and understood her disciple history. Not that she’s a bad kid – she’s just not the kid I needed right now. This kid never talks, well not in English. She is always on her phone texting her Thai friends and living in her own little world. It’s heartbreaking but I don’t want to get ahead of myself here. See, I really thought that maybe this was what God wanted for me. And I am sure it is, I just don’t see why or how anymore.

I have always been the kid who just knew things. I can’t explain it except to give examples.

• The time I cancelled vacation. I was supposed to road trip across the country to spend a week with my longest and dearest friend. She was so excited about finally seeing each other after about 10 years or so. The week before we were supposed to leave, I began having horrible feelings about this. I couldn’t imagine why. I love her dearly and to see her again was all I wanted right then. The night before I was supposed to leave, I called her in tears. I couldn’t come and it was made worse by not being able to explain why. I just couldn’t. I knew I was not supposed to go. She said she understood even though I knew she was as heartbroken as I was. Three days later she called to let me know it was good I hadn’t come. There was a family emergency and she wouldn’t have been home to visit with me anyway. I’d have been all alone in her home for a week. There was no way I could have guessed that would happen, but it was odd that I had such a bad feeling about it all.
• The time I applied to college. I was already in college. I was not studying what I dreamed of and definitely not at a world renowned school, but I was doing well. I really wanted to transfer to a particular top 10 school. Everyone told me I needed to apply to more than just this one. The odds of getting in were almost nothing. Even my professors told me to apply to other schools. I argued that I would get in and if I was wrong? Well I was in school and I was going to get my degree so what was the loss? Wouldn’t you know… I got in. my dream program at one of the best colleges in the country.

So what was it this time? A trip the the store for a $3.75 flavor spout for my water bottle. Seriously. I need one to hold me over until the next shipment. I can’t explain why I grabbed a shopping cart. It comes in a little box, no bigger than the one you buy children’s cough medicine in. I grabbed a cart and headed to the flavor spouts. I got one and then thought maybe I would grab something easy for dinner. The pantry was pretty bare but it was just me and I don’t eat much. Next thing you know, the cart is full and I am headed for the register. This is the dialog in my head – the little tug I feel and then my head trying to be sensible.

Wait! I need cereal – (but I don’t eat cereal.)

I NEED cereal! – (fine… let’s go look. Hmmm, the sensible choice would be Special K or something pretending to be healthy right?)

OH! Look!!! Capt’n Crunch! – (Kid, WE DO NOT EAT THIS!)

OH… LOOK! With berries!! Get this? THIS ONE!! – (What the heck?!? Who eats this?? Not you. Not your nieces…)

$200+ in groceries later, I am loading Capt’n Crunch Berries into the back of my car. This is the most expensive water flavor I have ever bought in my life. But the next morning, I get the call about this kid. fast forward through the paperwork and flights… guess what her favorite cereal is. The only one she says that she eats for breakfast. Yup… and my pantry is full of things for her to eat. All I can do is look up and laugh. I hear you God.

So if I am supposed to host her, why is this so hard? I am starting to think it was to break me from doing this for awhile. She is the most frustrating child. Don’t get me wrong, she can be incredibly sweet! When I was in bed with the flu, she made me soup every day. But she is socially unaware, non-talkative at all, and glued to the TV. It’s so awkward to have this person in your house, sitting at your dinner table who never talks but runs the TV. My Netflix suggestions are ruined… nothing but Korean TV and horror movies. I’ll have to delete that profile once she leaves. But in the meantime, I feel like a prisoner in my own home most days. I have started working late – or at least not coming straight home. I study in my room a lot more, or spread my books out to make it look like I am studying.

I really should be studying. I have got to pass this exam. Between her and the aches of missing you, I don’t get far though.

The Lesser of Two Evils

It’s almost January and that means really big changes this year. It means the first year in our home is coming to a close and the sun is setting on my time with the structures team. It means walking away from everything I ever dreamed of because their system is set up to abuse those who have a passion for their role as opposed to chasing the paycheck. A system designed to reward those with a goal of climbing the corporate ladder as fast as they can.

9.5 years ago, I started my career out here and thought I was taking on everything I ever wanted. I was going to lead a team and build things I only ever dreamed I’d have the opportunity to – and boy have I! My career is filled with moments where I have to pinch myself because I can’t believe I really got to do all I have. But come January, I will step away, close the door, and start something so new… something I’m not really sure I want to do…

This past October, I was forced to make an impossible decision. I could chase my passion, find a new way to enjoy what was left of my team, and become the sole rock of my department. It would mean I accepted the fact that my salary was going to stall. I would have to accept that new hires with no experience would make more than me despite the time and tears I had invested. It felt like admitting I wasn’t worth anything… Coming out of my abusive marriage, I couldn’t stomach that. I am too good at what I do to allow them to say I’m worthless or worth less.

So I looked at the second option I was given – give up my love of structures and find a position where they could adjust my salary more in line with my experience. That comes with selling my beautiful new home, leaving my friends and neighbors, and moving 8 hours away to a city I’m not even sure I want to live in. It means joining a completely new team, one where I don’t know anything and am not even sure I like the work. It feels like starting all over – except that I get to keep you. I give up everything else, but I get paid a fair salary and I get you.

But this morning I can’t stop the tears. I am feeling so lost – so overcome with grief. I think I made the wrong choice. Maybe I should have taken the third option and I should have walked away from the company. Maybe I should have followed my passion and stayed here in our home and with you and started over somewhere else building on my dreams of design. There are so many people truly shocked by my decision, which I think that only makes me feel more upset and convinced I went the wrong way.

What if I did? What if this isn’t what I want? What if I don’t want to be closer to family or a more well-rounded engineer? What if I like living up here with you? What if I’m not really excited about any of those other things they tell me are good reasons to take this offer? What if I like my life here and my bridges and my friends? What if the only problem was really feeling undervalued and unappreciated? What if God was telling me to walk on the water with him and not simply change decks of the cargo ship? What if this was supposed to be a divorce instead of marriage counseling?

I mean, it took a hard scary divorce to find you, but look how happy I am!! Maybe I was supposed to start fresh. Let go of all the hurt and frustration here for a new relationship with a new company.

I don’t know. I think the next 5 months are going to be the most difficult 5 months of my career to date. I know leaving my position was the right choice. I know that with complete peace. What I don’t know is which door I should have chosen. I guess the upside is that I haven’t moved yet which means I could still walk away, keep my house, keep my friends and go a different direction. I can still get my divorce and a fresh start.

I just need your hand in mine and maybe a slow dance.

Now what?

My daughter is turning 18. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about this yet, but time won’t wait for me to figure that out, nor will she.

To celebrate the big event, I planned a weekend retreat at a giant cabin in the middle of no where with all her aunts, uncles, cousins… and my loss of sanity. I stressed and planned and panicked and stressed some more trying to give her a fantastic birthday weekend surrounded by her family (which we rarely see). I hindsight, I am wondering if all that stressing isn’t the root cause of the problem.

Her entire life, I have basically been a single mom. Even during the short time I was married (less than 3 years), I was still doing it all on my own. I simply added an extra road block to my parenting as he sabotaged everything I tried to do and was a bigger child than my own. That’s not my point though…

Her entire life, I have been a single mom. From the beginning, my mother thrived on pointing out how my daughter was lacking, the disservice I was doing by not having a man in her life, and my unending shortcomings as a mother. I wouldn’t say that I bought her things to make myself feel adequate; I couldn’t have afforded that if I had tried. But I did surround her in love.

I wanted her to grow up knowing that no matter where she went, what she did, or who she became, I was always going to be there. I defended her from those who made comments about our family life, our lack of a man, and the dysfunctional family I had grown up in. I wanted better for her. Maybe that’s where I went wrong.

Rather than exposing her to the toxic lifestyles and having conversations about why each person’s behavior was not something to replicate in her own life, I moved us away from them. I worked hard to surround her with people who didn’t model those behaviors. Somehow this made my family Maleficent’s spinning wheel, the Evil Queen’s apple. The thing I wanted her most to avoid became the one thing she desired most. The one person who most modeled every behavior became the one person she most wanted to be like.

So here we are. I am sitting on the porch swing with my cup of tea watching the world wake up around this sleepy lake and realizing that I may have lost. The little girl who wanted mommy’s hand, to always be close to me, to sleep in my bed and battle the world with me hasn’t even looked at me for a week. She is growing and changing and finding herself. I get that. But she also broke all our plans. She has hurt people who once mattered in her life. She cries and says all that matters is one thing and then changes her mind and hurts people to their faces. When it’s pointed out, she says “I don’t care, as long as I get…”

Who is this child? Who is this young lady? She is definitely not the kiddo I knew a few days ago. That kiddo cried when people did this to her and yet she does it without blinking. She gets angry when you point it out to her. She has lost all of the caring I taught her. All that matters is getting her way – but that changes like the breeze and leaves people hurt.

So what do I do? I feel as though she’s being manipulated to turn away from me. They say I raised such a great kid and yet they are creating and encouraging behaviors totally contrary to what I raised her with. All I hear is the promising threat made to me 16 years ago that one day they would turn her against me and take her. They want the one thing in my world that matters most… the one person I would die for. They want my heart and my breath. The more I hurt, the happier they appear to be. And now that she’s 18, I really feel I have lost. My heart is breaking and she laughs.

Do I surrender and let her go knowing full well they will use her and break her and spit her back? Or let her follow that path and become one of them because their life looks so sparkly and perfect? Do I stand back and wait to pick up the pieces hoping for the best? Do I just let go? How do I stand back and watch them change her, knowing what happens and the only two endings possible – neither good ones – and let it happen? Won’t she think I broke my promise and turned my back on her? But I can’t watch this… to see the game they play kills me.

Maybe I need to let them do it… let it cost her more than I can repair. Maybe then she will see what I was trying to do and regain her sanity. Maybe. Or maybe I lose and I go on in this world without her awhile. Maybe I go back to the life without those toxic folks and focus on me for awhile.. that’s something I don’t get to do much.

But for now, I sit here on my porch swing, drinking my tea and crying….

Please Don’t Let Her

I need to write. I need to process these emotions because they hit me out of no where. I don’t know why I’m feeling these things or where to set them down, but I figured this was the best place to bare my soul one more time.

Walker Hayes has this new song out, “Don’t Let Her.” I’ve heard it for a few weeks now driving around in my car and usually turn it up, thinking it’s a sweet song. I confess to never actually hearing all the lyrics, but the chorus leads you to guess the moral of the story. Coming home after a long night day at work last week, it came on. I still didn’t hear the opening lyrics, but it hit me differently and my eyes began to water. My mind went instantly to my deceased ex husband.

No, he would NEVER say these things. He’d never let them pass his lips. He may have thought them … or maybe used them to torture me, like the way he’d say if he really loved me he’d let me go because he knew I deserved better than him. And maybe that exactly why the tears. Today would have been our wedding anniversary. As I think on the years of life I wasted and the abuse I endured, I realize just how much I wasn’t loved. He wasn’t even half of my forever, but he sure didn’t think it tragic that I never wanted to love again. I don’t think he cared that I was so broken from his antics that I never wanted to let another man close enough to know me and love me. I never wanted to be hurt again.

And yet today the tears come. I don’t know why. It’s not like it was a big anniversary. Maybe because it’s the 5th anniversary to follow the day I told him I was done trying and no matter what happened anymore, I was leaving. Maybe it’s because as I sit here tonight, I realize that for the first time in my life I am truly happy. I’m not living in fear of him. I’m not consumed by my battle scars. I am confident, independent, making scary life choices with a song in my heart and the biggest grin on my face. I am me, completely myself and not worried what anyone thinks. I am living my every dream.

Maybe the tears come because for the first year since I walked out, I’m not missing him. I don’t even think about him in the course of daily life. Walker Hayes sings about all the things his girl likes and tries to help some guy stand a chance with his widow. For the first time in years, I know what I like. I know what makes me happy. So maybe there are valid tears and signs of more growth and healing. Maybe this is my letting go and my final goodbye, my sense of peace and wholeness.

Whatever the case, I am going to cry these tears. I am going to get out my pen and cross today off the calendar, thanking you for trying to break me because it’s shown me just how unbreakable I am. And know that Grover doesn’t let me miss you. He loves me in ways you never could… a real love.

You Didn’t Save Me. You Didn’t Change Me.

I am a sucker for a well written song. The ones that say things I can’t put into words are my favorite. They get stuck in my heart and tell more about who I am than I could confess myself.

Maren Morris has released her new album ‘Girl’ and I can’t play it enough. There are some really great lyrics and some I skip over, but one chorus has struck a chord this week.

Here is an excerpt, a few of my favorite lines.

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To Hell and Back

The skeletons I wanted to bury, you liked out in the light.

You didn’t save me. You didn’t think I needed saving.

You didn’t change me. You didn’t think I needed changing.

I wonder how you treasure what anyone would call a flaw.

When my demons come a call in, you don’t even bat an eye.

I don’t scare you and I guess that’s why.

You didn’t save me. You didn’t think I needed saving.

You didn’t change me. You didn’t think I needed changing.

Lucky for me, your kind of heaven’s been to hell and back.

---

My entire life people have tried to change who I am. My ex swore he saved me, especially from myself. But then I met you. Even with my life a mess, you saw me and never thought I needed to be saved. You never tried to change anything about me. You held up a mirror and helped me to see what you saw through all the bruises, frayed wings, and tarnished halo. You thought I was perfect and capable of anything. Lucky for me, your kind of heaven has been to hell and back.

Because of the way you love me, I have found my self confidence, achieved what I believed was impossible, and polished up that halo. I am who I am because you didn’t change me. You encourage me and you love me exactly the way I was – the way I am.

https://youtu.be/UW8rpVEnF2I (I can’t figure out to embed the videos on my iPad like I used to on my laptop.)

Confessions of a Consumed Lover

I have spent the last 25 hours collecting my thoughts. Things are changing so quickly that I am struggling to properly process each piece with the care it deserves. I feel a bit like Chicken Little, but I don’t want to scream the sky is falling. The engineer in me tries to catch all the sagging places and prop them back up until I can save the world properly. Time. It takes time and when days like this happen, I feel as though there is no time. I am simply a tired wife and mother.

Labs.

It all started with a routine visit to the doctor after Thanksgiving. Some complaints about fatigue, inability to focus, anxiety, depressions, lack of appetite… normal teenage problems right? The doctor listens and we agree to start with some basic labs to make sure this is all normal stuff and not something a little more. Then comes the call, something doesn’t seem right. Let’s repeat the labs in 30 days to ensure it wasn’t a fluky thing at the lab. She seems normal enough so let’s not get excited yet.

Now it’s March and we haven’t gotten a call on the second labs. Hmmm… mom is now in a bit of a fuss. We make some calls and play phone tag a few times. Finally the doctor reaches us. The labs are still not right. They are better than before, but still not where they should be. We asked for a second panel, but there seems to be some confusion. Has no one called you? … if they had, would I be calling you wondering what’s wrong with my child? … Well, I better have the doctor call you.

There is nothing worse than a worried momma with an engineering degree, a familiarity with medicine, and google. Most searches indicate cancer. Some say it could be something as simple as a high count and needing to be monitored, but these are far and few between the cancer warnings.

After hours, I stumble across one which indicates it could be something much simpler requiring a change in diet and it could resolve itself. Lord, why couldn’t this have been the first or second one I found? Why couldn’t this have popped up and made me feel better about the extra panel the doctor is seeking? Instead you have me frantically texting my best friend in tears. I am picturing the worst. Dreading the moments of cancer doctors and treatments and the stress and worry I’d face all on my own. How could I be the strong momma knowing what we could be facing? God, we will talk about this later when I can find some composure.

Prom.

Then comes the call from a friend. The girls have found a prom they’d like to attend together. My teen has been OBSESSED with prom since she was 2 and saw my sister getting all dressed up in the sparkling fancy gowns. And given the terrifying visions of the future this morning brought which I’m frantically attempting to swallow behind the unnatural blinking back of tears … okay. I will make this happen. Next year it may not be an option, so let’s do this.

For as much as I think I have kept up with her growing up and faced the reality of her turning 18, planning the big party, preparing myself for the day she decides to go off to college – she came around the corner in that dress and there was no stopping the tears. My curly haired little toddler who had grown into this awkward teenager was standing there looking absolutely beautiful as a young lady. God, is this a freaking joke? The tormented visions of this morning weren’t bad enough? You really thought I needed to be reminded how short our remaining time is together before she starts being really interested in guys, college, and moving away? You felt like I needed to be shocked into the realization that she’s all grown up like this? I know she is! I know the days of she and mom against the world are drawing to a close as she steps out into this scary world on her own. I have taught her and prepared her for this moment, but I failed to prepare myself. And as if the thought of losing my partner, my best girl, my sidekick wasn’t enough… as the dread of a quiet and empty house starts to fill my mind…

Depression.

… the depression kicks in and the idea that you could change your mind and walk away from me, truly leaving me all alone hits like a brick wall. There is no bracing for the fiery explosion that starts in my stomach and spreads to my lungs. My heart sinks into the cavern created by the collapse of their smoking ashes. I could invest my entire life into the two people I care most about on earth and end up completely alone.

They years wouldn’t be wasted! I don’t mean that at all. Loving the two of you has brought me more joy than I ever dreamed my heart could hold. This girl has filled my life with moments of awe and wonder, innocence and grace, love and compassion. She taught me so much about who I wanted to be. And you! I am the woman I am today because of the life we share. You have taught me patience, grace, forgiveness, priorities, what’s really important and what’s the frilly distraction. You have taught me what real love is.

Tears are streaming down my face as I realize I have prepared for this in a couple of ways. I have resolved myself to strength and gratitude. I could cry over days lost with you, or I could marvel in the magic of each moment we share. You and I have talked about the age difference. We have talked about the very real possibility that I will have to bury the love of my life and find a reason to keep breathing until we meet again. That thought SUCKS and I don’t want to think it, but knowing that’s a real possibility makes me take in every glance, every word, every forehead kiss, every whispered “I love you” even more. To know that in my life I found a true love, the kind that completely ruins you from ever loving another… Lord how blessed I am!

God.

As angry as I am about things, fears and growing pains, distance and depression, I know that you have never abandoned your promise to me. You told me if I would just trust you, you had a plan. Man did you ever! There are no funerals or certainty of medical conditions. There is chaos and confusion, but that’s not how you operate. You calm the storms and you carry us when we feel the weight of the world is too much. You promise to take our all and pack it down, shake it up, multiply it with your “enough” and get us through it, if we can maintain our faith and focus on you.

For the last 15 hours or so that’s been all I have tried to do. The best way is to count my blessings. And when I count them, I always count you and our girl twice. Not only do I get to share life with you, but you both teach me so many things – making me not only a better wife and mother, but a better human.

Grover, I am so very thankful for each and every day we share together. I am thankful for the days the depression wins because they force me to sit back and take an inventory of our days. I get to remember the very first text asking if a bedtime story would help. I get to remember the first time we watched a movie and tried to guess the ending. I get to remember the first time I was brave enough to sing to you. I get to remember the moment you called me scared and upset and I asked what do we do next. I get to remember the 4 hour drive just to have dinner with me and hold me in your arms tightly against your chest for a few minutes. I get to remember our adventures and our walks in the sunshine along the banks of the lake. I get to remember the moments you made sure I was eating or drinking because I couldn’t remember to stop long enough to care for myself. Or the times we spent hours asking each other questions and forgoing sleep for three days just to not have to end the conversation. I get to sit back and marvel at the changes your love has made to the little girl who was so afraid she couldn’t make it on her own… the girl who was terrified to admit she needed someone, and that she could be loved. I get to remember the cards because it’s Tuesday, the flowers because it was Thursday. The good morning texts and the bedtime stories. This isn’t the end. A love like this never ends. Even death can’t separate two hearts that have become so entangled. I could sooner cut off my own arm than untangle what God has joined together as one.

So, God, I can cuss the depression or I can find the beauty in the moments it reminds me of. I can know that this too shall pass and we will be okay, because we always are. Love doesn’t run… we don’t give up just because it got hard. Yes, there is an initial push, and then comes the pull. We are very good at the pulling. It’s why we have learned to slow dance. A slow dance solves everything and the fact that we both know that and celebrate that – God I am so thankful. For all the things I have done so horribly wrong in this life, giving my all to this man is never going to be one of them. I don’t deserve the love he gives me, the way he calls me his princess or tells me I am beautiful the way only he can say it. Maybe that’s why each one means everything to me. God, please bring him home soon. I love him more than I can admit, more than I could ever find words to say. To say he is my one doesn’t do it justice. You have taken two and entwined and twisted and entangled until he is me. I am him. We are us. I can’t breathe without my lungs in his chest. My blood won’t circulate without our heartbeats. Whatever we were before, we are now the same. We are only one, in every possible way. Oh to know that kind of love!

So my Beast, today I will send you the warmest of anniversary wishes and count myself the most incredibly and richly blessed woman on earth to have become so tangled in us that I have lost myself. In case you didn’t know… I am crazy about you. You are truly my everything and I couldn’t ask for more.

Eternally,

Your Belle

xoxoxo

1652 Days … and Grace

Where do I even begin? The last three days have been an emotional rollercoaster for me. I’ve been heartbroken, sad, angry, calm, frantic, desperate, and humbled.

When the email came Thursday morning, all I wanted to do was undo it. Stop it, stop you, stop everything. I wanted to hop a flight, bang on your door and ask what had happened. I wanted to find “Pastor”and hit him with a couple of bricks for being so wrong. I vented that anger in a lot of ways, most not very helpful or productive.

I opened my Bible and found some answers. I thought they would help me restore peace in my soul, but it was only momentary. I was so quick to blame him or dismiss the remarks as wrong, that I failed to hear the pain. I was indignant instead of listening to your heart and not merely the words you were saying.

Love is an unfamiliar realm for me, and you. We have been in it for 1652 days, but that doesn’t mean we always get it right. It doesn’t mean we don’t make mistakes or end up hurting one another. What it means is that we listen harder, we love harder, we are quick to forgive and even faster to forget. It means we grab the other’s hand, say sit down because I need to talk to you. Or at least that’s what we are supposed to do.

How do you look at your spouse and say you really cut me deep? How do you tell the person that you know would take a bullet for you that they have dealt a crushing blow and didn’t even realize it?

With tears streaming down my face, this morning the brick connected. I have been hearing your words all wrong. I got so caught up in running away from everything I have survived before you, forgetting the pain, and trying to start fresh, that I missed my own words. I asked you to do something I had no right to ask. I set you up for failure and then left you sitting in a puddle of guilt and shame all alone. I didn’t hear it or see it. I can blame the miles for my blindness but we both know that’s not an excuse.

I did this. I hurt you. I asked you for the one thing I promised to never ask and then left you to carry the weight of failure without ever truly looking at what I had done to you. I failed to see the weight of my request, the effects of that deadline, the damage of my words.

I have been praying for days that God open my eyes to what I was missing, Something terrible had to have happened for that email to be sent and I was caught so off guard that I never even imagined it wasn’t completely this pastor’s fault. While he does carry some of the blame, the bulk is on me.

My love, I never meant to set you up. I never meant to build the impossible trap. I never realized the weight with which you were holding what sounded like a demand from me. I failed to see the pain and torment I was creating on the man I love most. I am so unbelievably sorry. To say I never meant to hurt you doesn’t matter… I hurt you. To say I didn’t understand doesn’t matter… I said the words and they hurt you. To say I couldn’t see… well that’s even worse. How could I have not heard it before? How could I have missed what I was doing to you???

Love isn’t about roses and candy on Valentine’s Day. Love isn’t about little notes stuck in pockets or written in the steam on the bathroom mirror. Love isn’t about a card because it’s Tuesday or a kiss because you’re leaving for work. Love is about listening to your partner’s heart when they can’t find the words. Love is about weighing their feelings as if they are your own. After all, two became one, right? They are yours. Love is about giving, giving selflessly and not seeking a payback or earning brownie points. Love is about the other person and meeting their needs. Love is about patience, humility, honesty, and grace. A whole lot of grace.

I asked my Grover, in a moment of deepest despair (over something which had nothing to do with him) to do the one thing I promised I would never ask of him. But I didn’t just ask for it to happen. I asked for a deadline. I asked for a day it would be done. And then I left him all alone in that burden. I said it and walked away, forgetting to hear his heart or weigh the feelings I had just created in the heart of the man I love most. I took the stance that if he loved me, he would do this no matter what it did to him… or to us.

Lord please forgive me for being so childish, so selfish, so heartless. How did I not see what I was doing?

And as if placing this monumental demand wasn’t awful enough, I let it go for an entire year. Only when you come back to me with your heart in your hands expressing your deepest regret over failing me and breaking a promise do I realize the damage I have caused. Of course you failed! I asked for the one thing we both know can’t be demanded. I know that better than anyone… but I let myself forget. I let myself get so caught up in escaping my own hell that I missed the fact I was creating one for you.

I’m not here to publish our dirty laundry. It doesn’t matter the request or why it was so heartless to ask. What’s important are the lessons. What’s important are the things my eyes were opened to. I lost sight of serving you and … well for a moment, I became my mother and asked for the moon. I knew better. I know you love me and I didn’t need this to prove it. What’s silly is that had you done it, it would have destroyed us in the long run. I would have never been humbled and you would have grown to hate me… to resent me.

Instead, I was brought to my knees. I got to hear God telling me my mistake, hear his grace, and come to you asking for forgiveness.

Love is not self serving. Love is sacrifice.

Love is not speaking sweet words. Love is listening to the silences.

Love is not taking what you need from another. Love is giving your last breath to save another.

Love is not hearts and candy. Love is blood and tears. Love is sweat and hard work.

Love is not rainbows in your eyes and butterflies in your stomach. Love is sleepless nights and time on your knees.

Love is not easy. Love is long talks and heartbreaking honesty.

Love is not keeping score. Love is always giving, serving, supporting, and honoring.

Love is not earned. Love is a gift.

Love is grace.

Grover, I am so sorry that I lost sight of us. I got selfish and caught up in what I thought I wanted and lost sight of what I really needed. I need you. I need to love you. I need to spend my life making yours better. I need to wash your back and kiss your feet. I need to cuddle your head in my lap and stroke your hair. I need to hear your heart even when it can’t find the words. I need to love you, I want to love you.

I know I really messed up. I know I missed it for a year… I see it now. Please tell me that you can forgive me.

Forever your girl,

Belle

Thoughts, God, and Bricks

My head has been full of you all day and all the things I want to tell you.

I want to ask what he said that agreed with. I want to know you really disagreed with. I want to know what he told you was hurting me. I want to know where he went to seminary. I want to know about his family and his marriage. I want to know if he hears his wife’s heart or if he thinks he knows it because God tells him what she feels too.

I want to tell him that pastors told Jack he was a good man too and that I was heartless to leave. They thought I was in a marriage worth saving. I want to ask at what point he transitioned from an imperfect sinful man to someone who had all the answers and felt qualified to dictate my life.

How many pastors have we seen fall? I’m not saying this guy is bad, but I am saying he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He missed the mark with this one and I don’t understand. I don’t know why he felt the need to say you were hurting me when I’m happier than I have ever been. I am more loved and cared for than I have ever been. I found my safe place and somehow he equates that to painful. That makes no sense to me.

I keep reminding myself that I know you better than anyone, but that only makes me wonder why you are listening to him over me. If I’m honest, he makes me question God. I have to remind myself he’s just a man and he is a sinner too which means he may have good intentions, but he isn’t perfect. The same way the pastors who told me to stay with Jack were wrong. You and I both know that wasn’t the desire of God or where I should have been.

Maybe I’m so angry because we were just having this conversation in my group at church – pastors who really miss the mark on the divorce front. I don’t understand how they are so quick to put their blessing on a marriage they know nothing about and yet they are the first to tout the line “God doesn’t tolerate divorce.”

I thought God was love, grace, and compassion. The Bible I read has him welcoming prostitutes and forgiving their sins.

I took a moment to look up a few Bible stories and am feeling much more confident that I am understanding the plan here. Turns out you said you need bricks and God was throwing a few. Lol. Between the math test and my friend, the president of the company, sending me an email today, I’m really sure I am understanding this and his vision. I am also more sure than ever that your pastor was completely wrong in every thing that you repeated to me. God told me to come here the first time and I’m starting to understand it again.

I fasted and prayed. I immersed myself, let’s be honest, I drowned myself, in His word and trying to find the answers. And then one by one they started clicking. From David to math and then the email… This is the same calm that came when you went overseas.

I’m sorry. I know this isn’t making much sense. I haven’t slept well with searching for answers but I am going to curl up with your shirt and Super G again tonight. God has kissed my forehead for you and told me he’s got this. Let me rest and I’ll try to explain this better tomorrow. Tonight, know I love you beyond words. I love you to the moon and back. Xoxo xoxo

Forever yours,

Your Belle

1,649 days

I hate “blenders.”

I don’t know where else to go. God told me to come here last time, so maybe…

I wish I could find the words to tell you the things racing through my head and weighing on my heart today. I wish I had a really BIG brick because today, I might take out that pastor. I really don’t understand why people who have never met me feel the need to tell you what I think or how I’m feeling. He doesn’t know what I want or even what I need.

“Some things I have strongly agreed with him and some just as strongly disagreed. But what I have taken from him is for years I have made promises to you about where our relationship is going … He has shown me that even in the ways I felt I was loving and caring for you I really hurt you… words have no meaning if they aren’t backed up with actions and I haven’t done that.”

First of all, you haven’t let me down. We have had difficult moments, yes! But we are stronger because if the communication shared through each and every struggle, each and every discussion and honest moment. You have been loving and caring to me – more than anyone else on earth. More than I ever dreamed possible. This guy is clearly an idiot…

Grover, no one is going to tell you God’s plan. That’s something he shares with you… with me. Remember my pastor told me too that he couldn’t counsel me to file for a divorce. There was other options and that I needed to stay in my marriage. You know I called you in tears that he couldn’t understand this was a matter of life and death. You also know Adam counseled differently. He listened to me and my heart. He was the one who asked me the purpose of marriage. He asked what my marriage stood for and what others saw when they looked at my marriage. He said pastors don’t understand the societal issues of domestic violence, verbal and emotional abuse. They think if it doesn’t break your bones, you stay.

Well, people watched the torment play out in the courts. They watched my daughter and I struggle to survive his continued amplifications of threats and terror. You tell me God wanted me in that! No one has come back and told me that I was wrong for leaving or that I should have stayed. No one tells me I amcondemned to hell for saving my life and leaving.

I am telling you the church has this message wrong. They downplay abuse. They dismiss verbal and emotional abuse telling you to stay because God doesn’t agree with divorce. Well let me tell you this…

1) my old pastor sees that I was right to leave. He even started preaching a series on abuse and the role of the church to support the victims and help them get out.

2) my new pastor has had his eyes opened as well. He stood in front of the entire congregation and said if this is what your marriage looks like – GET OUT!

I have read books where women were having their children sexually abused by their husbands and the church told them not to divorce. I think they have grabbed hold of the wrong piece here. It’s not about divorce anymore. It’s about life and death. It’s about abuse and love. It’s about being a reflection of His love in our marriages.

Grover, I am sorry that someone told you you’re hurting me, letting me down, or failing me in any way. He is as clueless as the stranger down the street. If you were hurting me, wouldn’t my life look like it did before my divorce? That life was hurting me. That life was a man who made promises he never lived up to. He never intended to.

You promised me you’d love me. You do. No one doubts that. It’s evident in so many ways.

You promised to make my life better. Hello!! Have you seen how much better things are than they were 5 years ago?? Baby, you make my life so much more than merely better.

You promised to be my best friend. You are!! You always worry about what’s best for me, what I need, what would make my life easier. You spoil me rotten!,

I don’t see where you have let me down. I see where you have lifted me up, defended me, encouraged me, supported me, loved me beyond my childhood dreams. You are amazing and I am so thankful that I get to share my life with you.

You aren’t asking me to put my life on hold. There is nothing holding here! You and I are building something magnificent and I for one am so grateful we get to do this together. I’m thankful for the depths of our intimacy, the wealth of safety we find in each other, sharing our every secret and fear.

There is nothing part time about you.. there never has been.

So listen to me. No one is in a stage of hurting or regret. I love you more today than I ever have and I know tomorrow I will love you even more. Please don’t let a stranger try to tell you things you know to be lies…

You said it yourself, I am embedded so deep in your heart, every word leaves you wanting more. We are perfectly paired. I love you Darling. Always have…

Forever yours, Your Belle

Finally… words.

Dear friends,

It appears that despite my intentions to begin writing here again, life had other plans. So much has changed since the last time I sat down in front of a keyboard to share my thoughts that it almost seems impossible to know where to start to catch up. So maybe we don’t. Perhaps the blanks should be left to fill themselves in as I rekindle the art of writing, pouring out my heart and letting my thoughts collect themselves into words here. I never thought of myself as a writer, but I think I have become one. Something about letting the words find themselves here brings me such peace.

So the blanks…

There are a few big ones that I know will come out as I start this back up, and they need to. As I said, this is the place where my heart can say anything it wants to and my head doesn’t get much of a say. This is the place where whatever I am feeling has become safe to let out. I’ve shared good moments and some of the worst with you. You have been my companion through nearly three years, even if I haven’t been a very good friend and kept in touch.

Boy, if that doesn’t say a lot about my life and how I connect with people!

I am not one to let people in. I keep to myself and do my own thing. I’m not out on the town every Friday night partying it up with friends. I’m not even sure I’d say I have friends right now, except for my best friend. See, I moved about 15 months ago and have never really connected with anyone. I tried a few times, but I guess no one wants to really be a friend to someone who keeps everyone at an arms length.

Remember that abusive ex I told you about a few times? Well, he left some serious scars and they don’t go away just because you file for divorce or change your zip code. They don’t go away because it’s been five years since he looked at you and said he was never going to touch you again and it was over. It doesn’t matter how many nights you sleep alone in a different room, or how many tears you cry to your lawyer. It doesn’t even matter when the Chaplin calls to tell you that he died one morning and he had wanted you to know. Sure, the abuse may end, but the scars don’t just disappear.

Years of lies aren’t forgotten. You don’t suddenly start trusting people. You don’t suddenly get all your self confidence and your identity back. No. You collect his things. You have him cremated and you try to find closure – healing.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have looked through his phone or his email. I think I wanted so badly to find that he had done something good. I wanted to find that he had changed his ways, that he really wanted to end this court battle and let me go to find joy in my life. I wanted to find proof he had reconciled with his family and healed old wounds. I wanted a lot of things I guess, but then I was always the optimist, believing that I could change him one day,  somehow save him from himself. What a fool I was.

Instead what I got was that phone call. I had just dismissed my students and headed outside to meet a friend for lunch. As I stood on the curb, the phone rang and I swear I thought it was my attorney. That’s the only reason I answered, I swear. I was bracing myself for your latest stunt… I got a stunt alright. Turns out that you had checked yourself into the hospital and you told everyone that I was still your wife. You told them that you were fearful of losing me and that you were trying to save our marriage. I felt so sorry for that poor man as he tried to tell me that my husband had passed away. You lied to that man and made his job of telling me nearly impossible. I tried to tell him that we were not married, hadn’t been for years now, but I don’t think that helped him much. Chaplain Ken just kept apologizing for my loss and trying to explain that you were coherent and talking one day and then gone before he could see you the next. He didn’t know what happened but he sounded like it was unexpected. You ass… you set him up too.

Turns out you were a busy man in those final moments. You knew we were divorced. You even emailed your divorce attorney and tried one last – two more times – to screw me over. See, I went through your phone and your email looking for answers. I wanted the closure that I was so sure I’d find. I mean, you had sent that stupid email back in March claiming to have realized that you were never going to be good for me and that you really wanted me to find a good man and be loved for the first time in my life. You made threats in there, but I wanted to believe that somewhere inside that cold and calculating heart of yours there was truly a spark of kindness. What a fool I was.

You knew you would never feel the warmth of the sun on your face again. You knew that you would never walk barefoot in the grass or feel the breeze on your cheeks. You knew that you were going to stand in front of that God you were talking so much about having found and yet… you sent two emails. Not one to your children asking for forgiveness or explaining what was about to happen. Not one to your family asking for the funeral you had felt so entitled to. No, you sent two emails tho…

The first was half sweet I guess. I mean, you were spinning that web of crap again and trying to convince someone that you were sorry and trying to let go of me. You were trying to paint yourself and this loving man who had suddenly found his heart and realized that I was right to leave you… but you sent it to your attorney with instructions that she was allowed to edit it as necessary, but don’t send it to me if it would hurt your case. Are you freaking serious right now?

Then the email sent after midnight asking her to file paperwork for an emergency hearing and an immediate payment to be made to you. Whatever she had to do to make me pay and know that you were winning… “$1000 ought to be a good start.” and a “God Bless” were your final words. See, you knew all along that you were never going to get out of that hospital bed. You could have shared your last words with any number of people, but you chose her. You chose those words and this ending and I don’t understand. What the hell is wrong with you???

So, as the ever faithful victim I was to you, I cleaned up your mess one more time. I did my best with what little you left for me. I claimed you and I called the boys’ mother. I made sure your family wasn’t hurting any more than necessary and I cleaned up your messes one last time. I have tried so hard to find something good in you, but I think I really have to concede that there was nothing. You were never going to be the man that I saw trying to get out. You were so cold and full of hate that nothing was ever going to break you.

So as I sit here and feel the tear finally fall from my cheek, chased by another, I wonder what your first words were. I have come to understand your last words and the lies you spread right up through your last breath… but what were your first words? You often told me you were merely doing what God wanted you to do and punishing me, trying to teach me a lesson. What were your first words when you stood there and had to explain your life, your final moments, your last words?

Maybe I should stop wondering. Maybe I really don’t want to know that answer. I mean, nothing about you has yet to turn out the way I thought you would respond. I do wonder if you got to see the weight that lifted the moment I realized the Chaplain wasn’t joking. I wonder if you got to see the weight of all the shame I carry for what you’ve done. Did you see the nights I cried praying that there was some way I could reach you and save you? Did you see what you have put my girl and I through for the last 5 years? Did you hear the laughter when I realized the legal battle was over? Did you feel the fear and panic when I realized this could be a joke again? Did you see me shaking when I fearfully asked Ms. Georgie if you were in her morgue? Did you feel the chest pains when she replied and the moment became overwhelmingly real?

Whatever you were or whoever you pretended to be with me, I am sorry that it ended this way. I promise you, this is not the ending I truly was praying for. I am thankful that you are finally free of the demons that were destroying here on earth. But more than that, I am thankful that I am truly free. We aren’t counting down the days until our next court appearance. We aren’t trying to figure out how to pay the mounting legal bills your lies were burying us under. We aren’t even afraid to go outside anymore. I’m sorry that your death brought such relief. No one should leave behind that kind of legacy.