Happily Ever After?
“Where have all the good men gone,
And where are all the gods?
Where’s the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn’t there a white knight
Upon a firey steed?
Late at night I toss and I turn
And I dream of what I need”
– Holding Out For A Hero, written by Jim Steinman and Dean Pitchford, sung by Bonnie TylerFor a girl who grew up on fairy tales, ’80s music, and romantic comedies, real life is sure disappointing. I was having a conversation with a friend today regarding the concept of “happily ever after.” We decided that there is no such thing. Why is the myth perpetuated in stories and song? I suppose it’s so the romantics among us can hang onto a little bit of hope that gets us through our years. And most of us get a glimpse of it now and then, particularly in the beginning of a courtship. But it’s not permanent. It’s not reality.
Don’t get me wrong — I do believe that many people can have a very happy and satisfying life. But it takes a lot of work to accomplish this. And if you choose to have a life partner, it requires not only trusting in your own abilities to do the work, but also your partner’s. I still like to think that in the majority of cases both partners are ready, willing, and able to pitch in. But it’s apparently often not the case. Some people mean their promises and vows for a lifetime. Others for the moment.
“It is only possible to live happily ever after on a day to day basis.” — Margaret Bonnano
So what happened?
If anyone other than my friends are reading this blog, you’re probably thinking, “What happened already? What “shattered” your “life.” Fair enough.
If you would be so kind as to allow me to give a bit of background first, and a description of “the plan” that I’ve alluded to in a previous post. When I was 21 years old, and a senior in college, I met a very nice guy. We hit it off immediately, and even though I was adament at the time that I did not want or need a boyfriend in my life, that’s what he became.
We were very different from the outside. He was a sports-loving jock. I’m an artsy-fartsy chick. He liked action movies. I prefer indie films (and chick flicks.) Still, we both had the same values in regards to things that were really important. Family. Loyalty. Honesty. We both had a good work ethic and hated pretentiousness. We also had a great time together.
We dated for a long time — nearly 5 years — when he proposed. During that time we’d gone through what seemed like everything together. Serious illness. Deaths of friends and family. Career path changes. He’d even gone back to school with my encouragement, so he could achieve his dream of having a college degree. We had an 18 month engagement and the most wonderful wedding imaginable with all of our friends and family celebrating with us. After we were married, we’d agreed that he would go to school full-time so he could earn his degree that much sooner. During that time I’d support the two of us on my income. After he graduated and got a job, I’d be able to look at my career goals, and perhaps return to school for my master’s degree. Possibly in a different field. It was all part of the plan.
After being married 2 years, we bought our first house. It was a fixer-upper — no choice really on our limited budget. But we put a lot of work into it, making it our home. It was a labor of love, creating a home that we envisioned one day raising a family in. We were overjoyed to host Thanksgiving and celebrate Christmas in our own home.
A few months ago, I noticed my husband had become very quiet. I knew for sure that the reason was stress. His health issues had begun acting up again, which I knew was very distressing to him. He was also nearly finished with school, and the prospect of job hunting for a full time job was intimidating. I remembered feeling the same way when I was preparing to graduate college. Meanwhile I was stressing about finances. Affording and fixing up a house on a limited budget was less comfortable than I’d hoped it would be. I missed having any extra spending money (or savings) and hated feeling guilty for “splurging” on something as trivial as a haircut. I kept telling myself that it would end soon — my husband would get a job, we’d have two incomes, and be more financially comfortable and happier.
I’ve been doing a lot of business traveling this summer — more than usual. Because of various circumstances, basically 6 months worth of business trips ended up being crammed into 2 1/2 months’ time. It was stressful, but I knew I could manage. I was looking forward to spending more time at home in the autumn, and taking some vacation time.
I came home from my last big business trip in mid-August. 2 days before my 31st birthday. My husband wasn’t home. He had told me he was going away for the weekend by himself to do some thinking. He’d never visited his grandmothers’ grave and wanted to do so, and wanted to spend some time in the town he used to visit frequently as a kid while growing up, visiting his grandparents. While I was sad he wouldn’t be home and I’d have to wait one more day to see him on top of the 2 weeks, I understood the urge to get away from every day life to do some reflection.
When he came home, he was quiet and distant. After greeting him and asking him the normal questions, (i.e. “How are you feeling? What have you been up to? Any problems with the house? etc.) I asked what he went away to think about.
His answer shocked me. I now refer to it as when he “dropped the bomb.”
“I was thinking about us. I don’t want to be married anymore. I don’t want to be married to you. I’m not in love with you anymore.”
Quotations
When I was younger I used to be very much a collector of quotes. I remember decorating my dorm room my freshman year of college and the border around my entire half of the room was made up of quotes that I’d cut out from magazines or other sources, and pasted onto construction paper of varying colors. Quotes inspired me.
It’s been a long time since I’ve collected or sought out quotes, but the other day, this one found me. It is in the beginning of a novel that I am reading. It resonated with me.
“Love doesn’t make things nice, it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes a mess. We’re not here to make things perfect. Snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us.” — Ronny Cammareri, Moonstruck (John Patrick Shanley, screenwriter)
I think I need to start collecting quotes again. I’m willing to take inspiration anywhere I can find it these days.
How did I end up here?
My first blog posting. Ever. I’d considered it in the past since I’ve always enjoyed writing and journaling, and I’ve enjoyed reading others’ blogs, but I always felt it’d be a bit nervy of me to start one. What could I possibly have to share that would be of any importance or interest to others? Heck, what could I write about that would even be interesting to myself. I know now that that mentality should have been a sign. Looking back, I see a lot of signs. But hindsight is 20/20, as they say.
I’m not sure how much I can feel inspired to go into in this first posting. I guess long story short is that my entire world has just come crashing down around me within the last 3 weeks. I know that I’m not unique, and that many, if not all people experience that at some point in their lives. But, as trite as it is, I never thought it would happen to me.
I was always the smart girl. The strong girl. The girl who made good choices. While still being impulsive about unimportant decisions, and priding myself on my whimsical nature in that regard, when it came to “the big stuff” I chose carefully. I’d weigh the pros and cons. I’d listen to my gut and double and triple check that my gut matched my head. Sometimes I’d talk to others to get their opinions. Sometimes I’d pray about it. Up to this point in my life, with a few minor exceptions that didn’t have much lasting effect, I’d thought I’d made good decisions. I thought my life was on the right path. It sounds so awfully conceited, but I thought that I had figured out my life path, and the meaning in my life, and I threw myself into “the plan” 100%. I’d meet people who didn’t have a clear idea of where their lives were headed and I felt bad for them. But I also can admit to feeling good about myself. I’d figured it out. I had the golden ticket.
You probably know people who live their lives like I did. Maybe you hate them. Maybe you’re one of them.
I can personally assure you that whether or not you’re a good planner, despite your intelligence level, despite good intentions, and whether or not your intentions are truly good, one moment, one instance, can cause your entire world to start crashing down around you. And that’s just the beginning. The destruction can continue until you feel that all you have left are the scattered debris of a life you once knew.
That’s where I am right now. And I’ll admit, when the crash first happened and during the destruction, I didn’t see how I could go on. I couldn’t see how I would survive this. Sometimes I still don’t. Right now I am trying to focus what I do have deep inside of me, even if I’ve neglected some of these things during my focus on what I thought was “the plan”. And I’m trying to figure out how I can first get through the debris and start rebuilding not the same structure, but something entirely new. With no plan.
