… I’ve got a lot of reasons but a long way to go I’ve got a lot of feelings but they’re still hard to show I’ve got a lot of senses and still I didn’t know…
I’ve been crying a lot lately.
I cried on Friday, first when coming back from the airport. Something in the Poe song just hit me, and it hit me hard. I cried all the way home, actually. Then I cried Friday afternoon, after finding out that Mars had filed for divorce, and just not told me. I cried on and off Friday night while I came to terms with that.
I cried Saturday night, but that was pain from losing my stomach after too much alcohol. (So I don’t think it counts.)
I cried Sunday night when everyone was saying goodbye to The Swede. I cried while trying to fall asleep. I started crying Monday when they announced The Swedes plane had begun boarding, and I cried as I kissed and hugged him goodbye, as I left and then ran back to repeat the hugging and kissing goodbye for a final time. I cried as I left the airport; the tears stopped somewhere on the way home.
I cried today at work, and am still teary right now.
… I know a lot of people but still I’m alone I’ve lived a lot of places but I’ve never had a home And I’m afraid to call you on the telephone…
I called Mars.
I asked him out to coffee. I could hear him blink in surprise. Could hear it in his voice. I told him I had thought about it, and decided to act like an adult instead of a spoiled child. He laughed, said yes he would like that – then, then he asked why. Why I had sent that eMail, why I had changed my mind.
… Cause I can’t predict the tings that I’m going to say And I don’t have the power to take them away…
I fumbled my words. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought, issue an invite and get out, quick. And then, then something took over.
I told him. I told him everything.
I told him that I still loved him, and I realized that after the Sit & Spin. I told him that I had still been angry and hurt, and was acting out of those feelings and emotions when I told him I couldn’t be his friend. I told him that I missed him, and that I wanted to try, if he was still willing. That I couldn’t promise I would succeed, or be a very good friend, but I wanted to try. That I had been a bad friend and a worse wife.
He started crying sometime during that – so did I. I read him my apology, we talked about the divorce papers (he had forgotten to mail them to me); I was honest and told him that yes, part of me hopes we can be friends and then a lot more.
We talked about when things began to fall apart, and how things were so badly broken by the time we got here.
I asked him when he stopped loving me. It was the night I told him that I didn’t know if I loved him. The night before he walked out. The one thing I regret saying to him.
I told him I lied that night. I told him why.
… I’ve got a dozen reasons the other sides should be known I can outcry a baby but I seem like a stone I can watch you slam the door but I can’t let you go…
I was honest. I told him about my mother yelling at me – how could I still love him, wish I was his wife, and yet refuse to be his friend. (We got stuck on the Mom yelling at me thing for a bit. He was surprised.) I told him that yes, part of me held out hope that there would, one day, be more. He didn’t know what to say; finally he managed that he was happy to try being friends, that he appreciated my honesty and upfrontness about “ulterior motives”, and he was concerned I would be hurt because of them.
I told him I wasn’t ready for a relationship, with anyone, even him. That if he were to show up on my door, I’d probably scream and close it from shock. That I need time to heal myself and continue expanding myself. That for the time being, I’m focused on the small and simple step of going out for coffee. I also pointed out that I took what Mom said to heart. That I need to see if I can be his friend, and go from there before I know if I truly want more. And that the more could come in six months, or six years.
He seemed to like hearing that. A lot.
… I’ve got a lot of time I’ve got a lot on my mind…
We talked about less serious things, and more serious. We talked about seeing each other, and our reactions – that we were both sad because it seemed like the other person had cleaned up and moved on, without remorse or regret. I think we were both pleasently surprised that it wasn’t quite so.
I can’t take back those words I so strongly regret. I’m not sure I would if I could – he and I both had to grow so much to get where we are now (able to talk and not be screaming at each other). I don’t know what will happen… but I do know that I talked to Mars for an hour, crying with him for most of that.
And I feel great.