reliving every footstep

This weekend I went to a surprise 30th birthday party down the shore with all my hoboken friends. The party itself was lovely...they rented a beautiful beach house right on the ocean. The house slept at least 20. The roof deck was particularly stunning. The grills burned on, the alcohol flowed freely, and someone's ipod kept the tunes coming despite someone else's oversight on the sound system. Good friends were all around and the moon was a rare shade of blood orange with black clouds swept across it. The air was warm and there was a cool breeze.

And then there was my husband, constantly on my mind. and his family, just blocks away, celebrating a new beginning, the coming of a new birth. The baby shower I wasn't invited to.


As soon as I exited 195 and began to drive that old familiar road, the memories swarmed back to me. Like the first day I ever made that drive, the first summer of matt, 11 years ago when he picked me up from Newark International Airport after a whirlwind European trip and I entered the strange land of New Jersey. I remember he told me how to remember the way was that you went through two traffic circles but you just kept going straight. Only now there was only one traffic circle. I remember how we stopped along the way to make out. I remember he told me I smelled like 'his.' I remember we got lost.

I remember when I first met his mother, she hugged me. So much relief in that hug, so much innocence, so fresh. I wonder what happened to that, and then I wonder if feeling like an outsider was all only in my head like he always said it was. Maybe they were really kind to me, surely they were. Didn't they feed me, clothe me, shelter me? Yes, they did all that. Moreover, his sisters were friends to me, most of the time. Maybe I fucked that all up. And I begin to get scared, and I begin to cry. Wail really. Because just now I can't remember why I was so unhappy. I remember it as a logical fact, yes, but I can't remember the details of it, can't remember all the pain. All I can think of is how much this hurts right now. And I don't know why I have done it, but I know it can't be undone. My friends say maybe our paths will cross paths again. Maybe things will work out after all, you never know. But I know. Just like I know he never cheated on me, in the secret place of my heart, I know the truth that no one else can know. We will never be together again. We will probably never speak again after all this is said and done. Because this is a man I know better than anyone else. And I know this is true.

And I feel so bad. Bad for the family I have hurt and left behind, bad for the memories I am losing, bad that my friends cannot fill the void I need filled right now. Bad for needing the void filled so desperately. I second guess myself again. Maybe it is me who is fucked up. Maybe my expectations of them are too high. Are you not perpetually disappointed in other people? Shit. Maybe you fucked all of this up. Maybe your expectations were just too high.

What I miss most is my best friend. I feel as though my best friend has died, and my childhood with him. But my memories are still so alive. As awful as he may have been, he was mine, and he got me, and I got him, in a way no one else could. The little jokes, the plays on words, the quirky things that only he would get. I notice them still but now there is no one to share that moment with, or I say something and realize that person doesn't get it, doesn't know the reference. What do you do with a lifetime of those little things? Do you tuck them away too, like the photographs, like the memories? Do you share them with new people and pretend they aren't connected to him? It would take a lifetime to remake all those little somethings again.

And I feel like a jerk. Why did I have to be the one to give up on him? Why did I go searching for comfort, for companionship elsewhere? Was there a chance left for us? He would have me believe this now. He wants me to know I wrecked any chance there might have been. I am feeling guilty. What have I done? My logic fails me.

My friends look at this as the beginning of a new opportunity. It is hard for me to see things that way. They must see me as very strong for having instigated the leaving. I am not. I am scared. I am injured. I never wanted this. Because it was him I wanted. It was always him. It was just the him I believed him to be, the one I still believe he is capable of being, if he only wanted me badly enough. Won't we do anything to save something we love?? And then I realize I must have been very lonely, even if I don't remember just what drove me away right now.

When two people split up there is never one single person who is at fault. This is the truth. The truth is also that only time can heal these wounds. The truth is I need to look at myself and find out what is wrong before I can heal the deeper wound. But that sounds like it will take such an awful long time.

I cannot imagine my life without him. I cannot imagine a decade full of memories that don't include him. I know I cannot rebuild my childhood without him. But I don't know where to put all this pain. I don't even know where to begin. So I make my friends remind me that I was so very sad then. I let them tell me it will be alright. I try to tell myself it will be alright, even though I hate hearing it. And I will time to pass so I can feel better again.