Mavis: Morning's Light

Last night over tapas, we tried. We really gave it our best. Armed with a $9 martini and Asian meatballs, I was ready. Him, fresh off a wildly productive counseling session that had left him feeling strong and focused. We laid it all on the line. 

As so many things in our history had begun, things started out optimistically. We were happy that the car ride over had been uneventful and I could tell that we each were secretly celebrating the fact that maybe, despite everything that was abnormal about our new situation, we could somehow use it to our advantage and ultimately grow as people as a result of our new-found separation and circumstances. 

We were unscripted and raw. Hurt and wounded and open for the other to see. And as we each spoke our peace, it became clear that we never really figured out how to communicate with one another. A two and a half year marriage and a nearly 3 year courtship and we never figured it out. Never was it more evident that this was our most glaring shortcoming as it was last night.

Midway through dinner, we had reached our conclusion. That we were ultimately not the ones who were going to make one another truly happy. And as painful as it was to hear it last night, it's harder still to write it here... the ultimate white flag, flapping in the wind for the world to see.

And right there, it died.

But because we had to sit there and endure the public spectacle of it all, we felt compelled to attempt to breathe life into it. So we tried. We indulged one another's crazy ideas of weekend trips and made the exhaustive effort it would take to resuscitate the relationship seem like child's play; and for a few hours, we believed we could do it.

After dinner, he showed me his new apartment. And I genuinely liked it. I could see him there - I could envision him in the space, living his life... doing the things that he loves to do. So in my temporary madness I tried to make a joke about him finally being free of the torment of the cats and my incessant nagging. To which he responded that more than anything, he'd miss those things... "his family."

Crushed, we tried to sleep. Him in the disheveled and less than ideal bachelor pad he'd been relegated to, and me - the misfit estranged wife in a room that symbolized the life that I had willfully chosen to no longer be a part of.

Morning came and we both confessed that neither of us had slept. Consumed by our thoughts and restless, we'd both experienced simultaneously the awkward discomfort of having realized that it was over... together, but also alone. Without knowing what the other was thinking, we'd lay awake practically the entire night feeling terribly about the fact that we had given the other person hope when we knew it was hopeless to think that anything was salvageable. All of a sudden, we realized that any attempts to save the relationship were now more damaging than just letting it go. And so with the brightness and clarity of daylight, we were once again able to see the white flag; and instead of turning away, we faced it - sadly but bravely - and decided to let one another go. 

If I should stay 
Well I would only be in your way 
And so I'll go, and yet I know 
That I'll think of you each step of my way 

And I will always love you 
I will always love you 

Bittersweet memories 
That's all I have and all I'm taking with me 
Good-bye, oh please don't cry 
Cause we both know that I'm not what you need 

But I will always love you 
I will always love you 

And I hope life will treat you kind 
And I hope that you have all 
That you ever dreamed of 
Oh I do wish you joy and I wish you happiness 
But above all of this, I wish you love 
I love you, I will always love you.