Monday, May 19, 2008

Underwater

Did you ever open your eyes under the ocean? You know that salty burning feeling you get? A constant stinging under the lids?

I'm a thousand miles from the ocean, but I can't escape that feeling. There are tears just behind my eyes, waiting for an opportune moment to spring a leak.

Last night Husband and I made love for what will probably be the last time. I'd rather not share a million details on the internet, but it was bittersweet to say the least. I cried the entire time, not voluntarily, not really even consciously. I tried so hard to memorize the sensations - skin on skin, fingers in hair, mouths touching - hoping against hope to imprint the memory of his skin onto mine. I tried equally hard not to remember the hundred thousand times before this one - the first time, the times our daughters were conceived, the reunions, the partings. It was so indescribably sad for me.

I have loved this man so fiercely for so long - have sacrificed to be with him, have defended him, cried over him, screamed at him, wanted him, hated him. Never in my life have I felt such intense emotion toward another human being. How can a love that strong not be enough? How can it not be enough?

There's more. I'm ovulating. And for one brief moment, I prayed that a miracle would happen, that something would slip, that we'd get pregnant again. Even though I know that it's a logical impossibility, that it's the worst possible timing in the world, that it wouldn't save our relationship, I still wanted it. Just for that moment. I know that it's not possible, and I'm glad that it's not, but all the same, that yearning was overwhelming.

On a logistical level, I know that this separation is a good thing. The best thing for our family right now, in fact. And on an emotional level, I know that it's right for me, and that what's right for me is, by extension, right for the girls. But on a visceral level, it hurts. I've discovered before that it's possible to be so incredibly sad that you actually feel it physically, as a pain. It's as though the emotion can't be contained inside, and comes shooting down your bones like fire. This is like that. The sorrow is near-constant, and when I think about it too hard, the pain comes knocking, just another reminder. There was a time I would have walked through fire to be with this man. I would have followed him to the farthest corners of the earth. He was love and life itself to me for years. And now? Farewell. How is it possible that a love like that was not enough to make this marriage work? Over and over, I kept saying to myself, as we moved quietly together - how can this not be enough? How?

It's not.

3 comments:

Ninotchka said...

I know so many people who have been through what you're going through and have come out stronger, wiser and better in the end. (I also know some who come out "bitter" -- but that's a whole 'nother story.) I wish I could somehow press "fast forward" so that you could skip all this pain and confusion and get to that better place. Unfortunately, the only way to get through this is to go through it. Frustrating, I know!

Until you get to that other side, I'll be thinking of you and wishing you and your girls the best. xxoo

Julie said...

I hope you're never sorry that you love him that much.

Loving each other and making those beautiful children together was worth it, no matter what.

Jenn said...

This just about broke my heart.

Beautifully written. Who dares talk about something like this? With courage like this, such gorgeous courage, you will be fine, more than fine.