Lately, I have been thinking about my ex. In that we haven’t spoken in months.
And I wonder why that is. Of course, I knew eventually, we’d lead our separate lives and not have much in common even to talk about anymore, but in a way, the more that time goes by, the more I wonder why there are months of silence.
At the root of our past marriage, we were friends. And at the root of our divorce, we were friends. We supported each other through some tough times in the past couple of years, break-ups, financial frustrations, and just general venting bout life. And then, one day, it just sort of stopped. He started dating seriously. I started dating seriously. I made the effort to reach out here and there, and he did not (though would quickly reciprocate if I reached out).
I’m never one to force things. And I’m not one to rehash the past or dig up things that don’t need to be. But the more time goes by, the more that friendship feels like such a thing of the past. And I don’t know how I feel about that, quite honestly. I hold a spot in my heart for him as someone in my life for more than 10 years, and I guess that just doesn’t go away.
And while M has always been fully supportive of our friendship, he also doesn’t really get it, either. He doesn’t understand how someone that hurt me and divorced me could still be someone I speak to, let alone have a friendship with. Our divorces were clearly very different. His was not amicable. Mine was. They do not speak, unless forced. We do (er, did). I guess this is the one thing I don’t talk to him about (or anyone, really, for that matter, as with certain things that I discuss here but not elsewhere, from time to time) because I think it would come across misunderstood, cause angst or worry on his pat and not really accomplish much, either.
So I write about it here. I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know why it’s popped into my head the last few days (other than a few bloggy friends who recently bummed into their exes), I just felt the need to get it out. Maybe I am just mourning the loss of a friendship that was, that we cultivated and enjoyed for the purpose at the time. To get us both through the loss of our marriage (ironically), but clinging on to the friendship that was too difficult to let go of, for fear of a gaping hole in our respective lives that was present for so very long.
I just feel such a distinction between then, and now. So much.
I think it also speaks to where I am in my life right now. Embarking on a new phase with my love, inching towards six months in my new job, and pursuing a mind/body challenge in hopes of rectifying body image with healthy mindset.