A Hopeful Wedding

I don’t want us to look back and say this was all for nothing. We carried each other through our first years away from our family, and nothing was telling us these feelings would fade. Could anyone blame us for getting married after five years together? It seemed right.

We can listen to “Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space” and feel sad for what is no longer there – but it was there. We have those memories, we can know that there is someone out there who really got us better than anyone else, and knowing that means knowing there are other people out there, too. There is love in us. We shouldn’t be ashamed because we got so close that we imagined devoting our entire lives to each other. That closeness is such a beautiful thing, even if it didn’t last as long as we had hoped.

I guess the concept of marriage is tainted for us now. How will either of us learn to trust again? No, how can I ever trust myself to know what I really want? I was so sure of this, but I was the one to ask for the end. I don’t want to hurt anyone else – I’m damaged goods.

But, no, I’m capable of more. I can rebuild myself, and you can, too. We don’t know how to move forward, but we are moving forward. Every new day we reconstruct ourselves further. We can choose to be ashamed of that label, of being ‘divorced,’ but it’s a sign that we once allowed ourselves to love someone fully. There’s nothing wrong with having been young and in love – this can be such a lonely world, and you gave me freedom from that feeling for so long.

Even as we soon part ways, you going off to either claim your PhD or moving back in with your family for a bit, me staying behind in this same college town, a part of you will remain within me for life. I assure you, there’s no replacing what we had together – but new towers will dot our skylines.

Snowed In

As I sit here, having just finished writing a review of If Beale Street Could Talk and eating lunch (Spaghettios, for I am still an unfortunately picky and childish eater), mesmerized by the several inches of snow covering the land outside that appeared overnight and thankful it’s a Saturday morning – though feeling sorry for my mailman friend who has to traverse it – I feel a strange form of inner calm, the kind that I was lacking through most of last year.

There’s that voice saying ‘everything is going to be alright.’ And I think it’s telling the truth this time.

I believe I started this project as a coping mechanism – after losing so much sense of focus in 2018, I needed something I could call my own. Something safe and reliable, something I could hold myself accountable to work on. Who knows if I’ll succeed – five articles a week is a bit of time, especially now that I have also decided to put so much focus on writing about movies. But perhaps this more personal project is the foundation for something bigger, a foundation I will leap from when I find the strength to invest my time into something more meaningful.

But right now, this project makes me feel alive. Like I’m seeing value in myself again. I still have pangs of depression, feelings of longing – but they all feel more manageable.

Who knows if I’ll feel this way by the time this piece goes up, only two days from now. But if I’m not, maybe being reminded of this feeling will ground me again. I want to remember what it’s like to feel as if everything’s alright in the world.

Sometimes you get snowed in, but all you have to do is wait until the sun comes out and the warmth will return.