The Return

It had been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. As she drove through town she marveled at what was before her; it was as if the town had been trapped in a time warp. Other than the trees, which had grown from newly planted saplings to large sprawling branches much of the town appeared unaffected by the passing of time.  Another indication that time had passed was the obvious wear from the years to the buildings. Most had been kept up in good condition but there were a few that were showing their age through peeling paint, lifting concrete and outdated window treatments on the interiors. She assumed the people wandering around were the next generation; the children being born and new to the world when she left were now introducing their young children to all the small town had to offer. Her children had been young in this town and she recalled how she had felt so safe taking them out to the parks and shopping, and when they were adolescents they had ventured out on their own with little concern. She had envisioned spending her entire life in this town, growing older, welcoming her children and grandchildren for visits and retiring as her parents had before her in their small town. But as they say, humans make plans and God laughs. Her dream of a peaceful existence in this beautiful and serene town had not come to be and now, unexpectedly, she had returned. She did not know what to expect and did not want to hope for anything. She was retired and looking down the tunnel at the end of her life now and she had learned, often the hard way, that expectations usually lead to disappointment. 

She turned right onto the street where their home had been and pulled the rental car to a stop next to the sidewalk in front of the house. This was the place where they had raised their children, where she created a safe place for them and their friends, where they hosted holidays, dinner parties and backyard bar-be-ques. She sat for a few moments in silence, looking at the stucco house that had been brown and was now painted a sky blue with white trim, and let the memories replay in her mind. Her children on the make-shift tree swing, washing the car in the driveway and starting a water fight, selling Girl Scout cookies door to door from the little red wagon, taking homecoming photos in the front yard and finally packing the moving truck the day they left. After a few moments she put the car in drive and continued towards the park, leaving the memories where they belonged, in the past. 

The year prior to leaving this town had been one of the most difficult, as well as most rewarding, of her life. She had been in her early forties then and found herself going through a common transition for women at that age and stage of life. Her husband had referred to it as a mid-life crisis and for a while she believed she was actually in crisis. As the calendar year began she found herself questioning many of the choices she had made, the twists and turns she had taken on her path and wondering how to create the future she craved. There were so many questions, so many longings and unfulfilled desires floating in her head that she often found herself reduced to tears of fear and desperation, struggling to breathe in a full anxiety attack and asking herself “is this it?”. And during this time she met him. She knew it was wrong immediately, but there was such a strong pull towards him that she eventually gave up trying to fight it and after several months of friendship and internal struggle she gave in and let herself sink deep into the abyss. She thought, or maybe hoped, he felt the same.

Maybe they were doomed from the start, but maybe not. Maybe they let themselves doom themselves, if that is a thing that people do. They came from different backgrounds, they each had complicated current personal situations, they had different goals for the future and ultimately they had different levels of tolerance for risk and the unknown. For four months she vacillated daily between feeling wanted and whole, to feeling guilty and shameful, to feeling frustrated and ignored. He brought out and awakened something in her; passion, desire, confidence to pursue dreams long shelved far away in her mind, to name a few. During that time her restlessness with her life increased and she started working on herself; trying to learn who she really was and what she really wanted. For as long as she could remember she had spent her life being the person other people wanted and needed her to be. She was the good daughter who did everything she was “supposed to”. She was the wife she was supposed to be, the mother she should be; always putting everyone first and always pushing down her feelings, swallowing her desires and putting herself last. The words “should” and “supposed to” had controlled her life and directed the choices she had made. The only place she was even somewhat outspoken and true to herself was at work and only once she reached the place she wanted to be professionally. But that person stayed at the office. At home she complied, she put herself on a shelf and slowly withered away. He came along and somehow, she could not actually tell you how he did it, opened her up and helped her see that something was wrong and couldn’t be ignored any longer. 

But yet, she still kept herself from him too, only showing him what she thought he wanted to see. Had she ever shown any other human her real self? No, because it was too scary. Her fear of rejection was all-consuming and so she hid parts of her away. Ultimately, when it ended, she was left confused and regretful that she had not just taken a risk and put it all out there. She did not know what she wanted or expected from their relationship; was it a fling or something that had a chance for more? The “should” and “supposed to” kicked in and took over her mind and she reacted. Perhaps it was because she sensed he did not actually care to know who she was, that she was the only one of the two of them feeling this way. In the weeks that followed the end she found herself regretting her actions even though it was “the right thing to do”. Her entire life she had primarily listened to her rational mind and it had worked for the most part. The very few times she listened to her emotions, and acted on them, ended badly. Rational equaled safe and so when she found herself in the middle of an emotional crisis she did what she knew, acted rationally. That day was no different. Her world was heavy; a teenage daughter in crisis, a tween daughter witnessing the crisis, her husband barely speaking to her because “she just needed to fix herself and the marriage”, feeling bullied by her colleagues at work for making an unpopular but responsible decision, it was all just too much. And then there was him, being hot and cold with her, leaving her feeling used and unappreciated, she could not take “one more thing”. She ended it and secretly hoped he would try to convince her otherwise. But he didn’t, he accepted it, or seemed to, she wasn’t sure but too scared to be vulnerable and ask. When the short opportunity arose to discuss it she just told him how he made her feel, allowing a small amount of vulnerability but relying again on her rational mind and swallowing the rest. She appeared cool, calm and collected because that was how she was “supposed to be”. Vulnerability equals weakness, avoid weakness at all times. 

Moving forward became a mind and body experience. She started to take care of herself first and then help others which her family found somewhat frustrating. She started putting her needs first and stating what she needed or wanted from others. She stopped drinking alcohol, the feeling it created within her when she had a few drinks became something she needed to control. She acted without rationality (wait maybe that was a good thing) when she was drinking and made some questionable decisions. She started a new eating plan and devoted a lot of energy to improving her body. Her daily workouts became more intense and often doubled; she felt strong while she sweated and listened to music, blocking out the rest of the world for a while. She seemed to be doing better, to be doing the work towards understanding herself. 

One day her playlist was on shuffle and started a song her kids had added years ago and the words brought her to a dead stop in her run.

Up at night I'm awake cause it haunts me

That I never got to say what I wanted

Oh my God, oh my God

I’m not the same as I was with you

I would jump out my skin just to get you

Oh my God, oh my God

How could you have ever known if I never let it show

Now I just wanna know, are you...

Yeah, I'm fine

Drop tears in the morning

Give in to the lonely

Here it comes with no warning

Capsize, I'm first in the water

Too close to the bottom

I'm right back where I started

Said I'm fine

The song was called Capsize and she immediately replayed it realizing she was also saying “I’m fine” but she wasn’t and it was so much more than a relationship, or whatever it was, ending. While she was silently reevaluating her whole life and making changes in order to learn to make herself happy and be happy in the moment she was also faking it. When she shared this with her therapist, a long rambling incomprehensible monologue, the response was “take a breath, slow down, you have time”. Did she have time? Everyday that passed was one she could not get back, one more day of feeling unfulfilled yet unsure of what would fulfill her. But instead of moving forward and continuing her work she dove into making her marriage what it “should be” and fell back into the bad habits just to get by each day. She felt numb but convinced herself it was the right thing for the kids because leaving her marriage now would be detrimental to the mental health of her oldest child who was already struggling and would inevitably blame herself. Sometimes late at night while she laid awake listening to her husband snore she would allow herself to think of him, how he made her feel and the process she had started because of it, and she would smile or get angry, depending on the memory.  She would allow herself to think about what her life could be if she had the courage to move forward. The restlessness returned but she hid it away. She wanted to be in love, in real love, not monotonous roommate like. Her husband was an amazing person; kind, caring, strong provider. She consistently asked herself why she couldn’t just be happy. There were millions of women who would gladly take her place and here she was whining about it. First-world problems she told herself and would eventually drift off to sleep. 

Six months later they moved in an attempt to start over in a new place. Change felt like the best thing for all of them, especially the children who were really struggling with school and friendships. Despite a lot of hard work the marriage did not improve with the change of location and after another two years she finally worked up the courage to leave. She remembered feeling like such a failure that she had not been able to fix it, to make it work. She had spent so much time over those years asking herself why she could not just be happy with all she had in her life, feeling broken and beating herself up emotionally for not being able to fix herself. As the divorce process started she began therapy and again started the work on herself. Something was different and she was able to see that she was not broken, just bent, and that straightening herself out was a process that required time, space and commitment to be successful. For the first time in her life she had that time, space and ability to commit and her view of herself changed. 

One of the hardest things for her was to figure out what her passion was in life. She read so many quotes and quips that told her that if you did what you were passionate about you never worked a day in your life. She wanted that; she wanted meaningful work and freedom. She wanted a passion away from work that sustained her. And she knew that what she had wanted for a long time was a partner that fulfilled her, supported her, challenged her, and was challenged by her, intellectually and shared her desires. They did not have to agree on everything or even want to do everything together or even have all the same interests. She wasn’t looking for easy, no relationship was easy and everyone came with baggage. She knew she wanted to be excited about someone who was excited about her. She wanted meaningful conversation, debate even, and passion. Her adult life to that point, except for a short time, had lacked passion. It had also lacked fun and spontaneity, because she was always doing the right thing. She was almost fifty years old when she finally loosened up and started living. 

She drove past the old fire station, happy to see that it was still in use and appeared to be well staffed since the town lived with annual threats of wildfires. Two months ago she received an invitation in the mail to attend the wedding of a friend’s daughter. She was excited to attend and she thought about him for the first time in many years. A little digging on the internet told her he was still living in town. Figuring she had nothing to lose, she called the number she found and held her breath while listening to the rings. It went to voicemail and she was tempted to hang-up. Instead, in a shaky voice, she left a brief message with her name and number, acknowledging that he may not remember her. Three days went by and her mobile phone rang, the number telling her it was him or whomever had received her message. 

They spoke for an hour that day, and an hour each day for the next week. At some point in one of the conversations she shared that she would be in town for the wedding and asked if he would be able to meet for coffee. He paused and her heart sank. Then he accepted and they agreed on a time and place to meet. Now she was here and pulling the car into the parking spot, her hands trembling and her mouth dry. It had been years since she had felt this nervous about anything. She collected her purse and began to open the door when she saw him standing on the sidewalk. He looked the same but with wrinkles and graying hair, as did she. She smiled and he smiled back while taking her in with his deep brown eyes that had made her breath catch when they met hers. She noticed his eyes still had that twinkle and his mouth that shy boyish grin like he was thinking of a joke. Regardless of what happened next, that moment was perfect and that was all that mattered.