Thursday, April 3, 2014

Taking Away

Do old feelings ever go away?  Do the connections ever fade?  Can you ever forget?

Joan came to the house today.  She buzzed in to spend a whopping two hours and fifteen minutes with the dogs and I, the first twenty minutes or so at my parents' house.  We left their house, walked the dogs around the City Lake, then picked up some lunch and came back to our house to eat.  I still say our house because her name is still on the deed.  The divorce is not final yet but it's close, very close.  We have actually agreed to everything and now it's just a matter of lawyers completing paperwork, which will be graced by our signatures.

It's makes for a funny thing to tell people now, but (this month and before the divorce will likely be final) Joan has a birthday.  The funny thing is that I will have a 60 year old wife and a 40 year old boyfriend.  I call her my spouse (although ex spouse is more fitting) but this story sounds funnier this way.  And I am almost 50 myself, although by the time I hit that mark this summer I will most likely have gone through a major change.

I wonder why it is that I always liked older women (for the few years I dated women before meeting Joan) but when I finally allowed myself to start dating men (as I had always wanted to do), I preferred younger men.  My own little theory is that I was looking for more of a friend, big sister, possibly mother figure, in women and in men I wanted someone that would take me back a bit, as if I could have lived as myself at a younger age.  Anyway, with men I hit the jackpot.   Regardless of age, meeting Mitchell was the luckiest event of my life. and I so look forward to our future together.

So why is it that when I spend time with Joan here at the house I still want her to come back and stay here, if only in the little house?  Is it me or is it the house that wants her back?  Will these feelings ever go away?  There is something unresolved here and I am told only time will heal the wounds but apparently it's going to take a lot of time.  It's much better but it is still not easy.

The truth is that I am terribly lonely here, especially at night.  Loneliness notwithstanding, there is just a feeling I get when she comes back, even for a quick visit like today.   At lunch she talked about how strange it feels when she comes back here.  She never stays long.  I have gotten to the point that I do not always cry when she comes here, but today was not one of those days.

While we ate, she noticed I had moved some of her paintings around.  Her artwork still graces almost every room of the house.  I don't have a lot of other pictures or other decorations on the walls, so her paintings liven up the house and keep some memories alive.  They belong here.

She saw a painting she wanted to take with her today and, as hard as I fought them, the tears came back.  They were not many in number but they were just as wet and stung my eyes just as badly as any of the countless other tears I've shed in the last 16 months, since she left.

Today I told her no.  She could not take another painting away.  The tears came because this was a reminder that she had taken herself away, and all her things, in the night while I was out of town.  She leaves some dusty paintings behind and now she wants to return and take those away too?  No way!  I am going to draw the line there. 

As soon as finished lunch she went to the restroom before leaving for her doctor's appointment, the real reason she was in town today.  The dogs laid on the floor next to where she had been sitting, their long faces belying their knowledge that she short visit was coming to an end.  More tears came as the thought crossed my head that they were expecting her to move back in, and bring Jumper with her.  Even more of the nasty, bitter tears are being shed now as the reality sinks in, yet again, that she is never coming back and Jumper is no longer with us.  Yes, change can be a very, very good thing but don't ever let anyone tell you that it's easy.