"Fairy tale does not deny the existence of sorrow and failure:
the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance.
It denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat...
giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy; Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief."
— J.R.R. Tolkien
— J.R.R. Tolkien
The house is quiet. Millie is sound asleep, and Sky is at work. The afternoon light is flowing in through the blinds, and dinner is simmering in the crock pot. This is the perfect time to sit down and write, but the words aren't any more ready than they have been these past few weeks. I haven't wanted to type out angry sentences that do no one any good, but I wanted to try to explain my life right now.
I've spent so much time searching for truth lately. And here's mine-I think marriage is hard-should be hard- but not this hard, this constant amount of fight and struggle. I think there should be some moments in life to sit back and rest, to look over your life with joy and feel that satisfaction of being right where you're supposed to be. I think between trials, there should be some sweetness and celebration of what you've overcome.
I thought Sky and I had overcome so much, when the reality is that we are back to where we started. Last time, there were so many tears, I didn't think I could cry any more for the rest of my life. And maybe I was right. Because this time, there are no tears- not even the rollercoaster of pregnancy has started them flowing. Last time we went through all of this, I was heartbroken. This time, I am angry. So angry.
It's the last time I will fight. I've already said the future is totally in his hands, because I have no energy left. All feelings of love or togetherness have faded into oblivion, but that's not why I'm out of fight. I can't do this over and over because my heart can't take it. Because I refuse for Millie to have this as an example of how a man treats her mama, or how someone should treat her someday. Because I am not worth much in this great big world, but I am worth at least a little. I am worth the vows spoken to me. I am worth honesty. I am worth fidelity.
So now, we start again. But not how we started again last time, with hope for the future and a slow rebuilding of everything we had. It's like a fire completely razed everything we had. It's not coming back. It's not being cleaned and remolded and painted over. It's gone, and we'll have to make something from the dust we stand in.
I'll be honest- I am not hopeful. I no longer look at old couples holding hands and fast forward to what we'll be like together when we're 80. It seems so far-fetched now. I look at my sparkling ring, which symbolized so much promise, and wonder why I didn't just wear the $50 band I had in the first place. I look at our plans and dreams as if someone is forecasting the weather for a thousand years down the road. It just seems silly.
That's where we are now. Neither of us having given up altogether, and no yelling or screaming...just quiet. Just waiting. And all we can do is wonder if that is enough.