In my last post, I mentioned that D had been feeling insecure about the bond between us. The next day, I found out what else was going on for her.
Dearest Hosea,
Today [my husband] and I agreed that our marriage had ended.
Please -- do not be afraid -- please. With every bit of integrity I possess, I will not make demands or ask for anything at all. Perhaps compassion, but nothing more. My changed status does not threaten your marriage or any other aspect of your life. I know your fears in this department after a long letter written many months ago, but I cannot reasonably hide my separation from [my husband], and you will pick up my unspoken grief even if I tried. Please trust me. I am ever so aware of my failures and faults today, but I will not harm you. My love for you makes it impossible not to ponder my emotions and actions with redoubled vigilance.
I love you, but I realize, ever so much more clearly than even this morning, that it is quite possible, even probable, that you will leave me. It's odd to say that gravity seems like a weak force right now; you meant the reference humorously, with love and confidence in tomorrow as well as today. It is hard to believe you will still be so loving this evening. But I can hope.
I have told my sister and [our grown daughter]. [Our grown daughter] said what I needed to hear -- that she loved me unconditionally despite her sorrow for us both -- and [my sister] offered help and support she wants to provide and doesn't actually know how to give an older sister who has always been her support. [My husband] says he told [our younger daughter, in college] "the unvarnished truth" in January. If he did, she has not discussed the possibility, now confirmed, of divorce with me. I know [our son, also in college] realizes something is amiss, but we have not talked either. Right now, I'm grateful for their silence; it won't last forever.
I ask that you not tell [Wife].
I will understand if you do not want to contact me for a while.
My love for you is unchanged; you have all my love.
D
You probably remember the last time this topic came up, I panicked and wrote D an e-mail that hurt her terribly. Well, I never claimed any great brilliance in the romantic arena, but I do hope I can learn from my mistakes. This time I replied as follows:
Dearest D,
I have told you that I love you, and I do. I have told you that my love is not a will o' the wisp, and does not change with the breeze ... and it isn't and doesn't. I love you now just as much as I did 12 hours ago.
I am sad for you both. I never knew [your husband] as well as I knew you -- even twelve months ago that was true -- but I think I know him well enough to be sad on his account. And on yours, of course, all the more so. But I will not panic or take fright. Part of my fear last time this topic came up was that I kept asking myself if I was somehow "to blame" for ... well, something, I don't know what. I know you better now, and as a result I know better now. And so I will not panic.
I know there is a lot I don't understand, but I also know there is no need for me to understand everything right away ... if ever. Maybe someday I will understand more than I do today -- some time in the future, I mean. Or maybe I won't. Either way it is not a question for today, and either way I am content to let it work out as it does.
But in spite of my sorrow and limited comprehension, you still have my love. Absolutely and, yes, unconditionally. Moreover, for whatever it is worth, you have my prayers that both of you are guided into a safe harbor from this point out on the high seas. And that, when each of you comes to shore, it is the right harbor and the right shore.
You have my love, secure in your keeping.
Hosea
When she answered that, she was already on her way to re-establishing the gracious and loving perspective that so perfectly characterizes her:
I am quite sad, and I have to mourn the demise of my hopes and the promises made thirty years ago. I realized yesterday that the issues between us had actually been decided months, if not years ago; now it's a matter of accepting the answers on both sides and respecting the conclusion. I won't say I understand why certain decisions have been made, but I do know that they were made without malice or the desire to hurt the other, and perhaps they were inevitable, given the persons involved. I know undoing the bonds, both emotional and financial, will be the work of many months. I'd like to do all of this with kindness and grace. All the good that has been part of our lives because we were married deserves no less.
I can't say I understand. I can't really say I approve. But I can say I will offer her whatever support is in my power.
It's still sad.
Ogham Readings on Saturdays
1 day ago
6 comments:
How can we really know what goes on inside others marriages?
I know I can't speak for D, and I know that this might not be what you want to hear, but I think it is impossible that your affair had nothing to do with her decision. That doesn't mean she left for you or because of you, but she may have left because of feelings that being with you invoked inside her. All the love and affection between you may have made her realize how it had disappeared in her marriage, or maybe was never there to begin with.
Or maybe I am just projecting. :)
This will be a painful, fragile time for you both. It is a good thing you are there for each other.
Wow. Handle with care, right? You seem to have your hands full of needy, fragile women, Hosea. Have you thought about this? It interests me and makes me wonder if you unconsciously seek it out...
You and Ruf should talk :)
It is a difficult time. As she said, the real decisions were made long ago but it takes the reality a while to catch up. And for all that we know it is the right thing to do, that doesnt make the grief any less or, indeed, the collateral damage to children, relatives and friendships.
Perhaps, like Ruf, you made a contribution in terms of showing what happiness could be and highlighting the comparison between two different worlds. But some women do not leave for someone else. They just come to the conclusion that to regain themselves, they have to change a lot of things big time.
Your relationship may survive the fall-out, it may not. All you can do is be there for her in whatever capacity she requires and be prepared to take whatever flak comes your way as she deals with all the random emotions that are produced.
Hope this helps x
I can't help wondering the same things as WW and Mags. I believe I indicated as such in prior comments. I feel certain that this change is somehow related to you, but just as WW stated it is not because of you. I also think there is a wonderful quality in you that seeks women who need your protection and support. Both are worth exploring for yourself.
But those question marks aside, despite your professed ineptitude in such matters, you crafted a perfectly lovely and romantic response. I think it is also admirable that you did not make any promises you cannot keep. You can promise to love her (I personally think that even as love changes based on circumstances, it is something we can promise to others) but you did not promise anything else. And yet, if I were in her shoes, I would feel the warmth and comfort in your words.
I am so sorry for you both; this is going to be a difficult time for her. No matter how much we may know we're doing the right thing by ending a marriage, there is always grief involved and a kind of regret--not necessarily the kind of regret about ending, but a regret about surrendering the vestiges of all the good things that made you want to commit so completely in the beginning-- regret about letting go of the promise you once made to love each other forever, regret and nostalgia for the loss of our former selves, the ones who were once so close, now separate.
i love the response that having my cake left; I think it's brilliant. I don't believe that we leave 'for' someone else or 'because' of an affair--how could we fall in love with someone else if the bonds between us weren't already fraying? All an affair does is sometimes accelerate the process (though i am not saying that's what happened here).
I think you wrote a beautiful and thoughtful letter; I feel sorrow for you both.
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