Leaving

The day had come. She knew it would. It had all led up to this moment. She should have known. But love makes a wise man dumb, an artist blind, a faithful man sin. Love. Is that what it was? Or was it all a facade? Was it just a prison presenting itself as love? The memories flooded her, pushed her down under the currents of her emotions. Like a surfer sucked under a wave, she felt her spirit suffocating, churning in the tides, unable to catch her breath. Slowly drowning, fading away. She revisited every moment, every detail that they had shared.

Was she blind? Had she been a fool? What does she do now? At 35, her youth and vitality were slowly fading away. With no children, no money, no life of her own. How was she to start over? All alone. She had never truly been alone, although she felt alone these past years with him. Desperately seeking the life that she had imagined that day when he finally said he loved her. The day that they laid on the rocks under the bridge and envisioned their life together. That day of empty promises. The empty promises that she had worked to bring to fruition every day since. The empty promises that she held onto day after day to inspire some glimmer of hope in this lonely life of hers. 

Did she ever truly love him? Or did she just love the idea of him? The idea that this was the way things were supposed to be. She had imagined them in this house, growing old together, making it a home. But it wasn't a home. It was a house. It was four walls and a roof that held in the shame she hid from the world, from her friends and family, as she pretended everything was ok. That HE was ok. That SHE was ok. As she pretended that they were happy, that he was something she deserved. Did she deserve this? This constant feeling of abandonment and disappointment? The fear? This life. Living in a loveless void, trudging through the days, waiting for everything to be ok. 

As she stared at the phone screen, watching the Uber driver near, she could feel it coming closer. The moment when it would all be over. She trembled at the idea of a new life. A new beginning. No idea what was to come. Who to be without him. Could she be without him? Did she know who she was anymore? This person that had lost their identity little by little since that day. Slowly losing her connections to her life outside of him. Missing vacations with family, visits with friends. The excuses that were made, time and time again, to keep those closest to her away from this box that held all of her secrets. They had stopped calling, stopped trying. She had pushed them away to keep him close. Yet, she had never felt further from him than the days leading to this. She tried to see herself, in her mind, at that moment. As she closed her eyes, she tried to imagine what she would look like to the outside world. All she saw was a desert, void of life. The dry, cracked earth with the hot wind pushing the dust into her bare skin. Slowly ripping her apart. All alone in the desert. No way to live or care for herself. 

Then, a sense of relief washed over her. The realization that this aloneness was of her choosing. That she was finally able to be alone with herself. That she no longer had to be alone while in the room with the person she loved the most. She realized, in this moment, the wind ripping her apart was not the end of her but the beginning. It was shedding her of her skin, like a snake, so that she may be reborn. Reborn without him. Reborn without the despair of never feeling good enough. Reborn and free. Free from the shackles that held her to this space, this box, this empty feeling of never knowing the joy of truly being loved. 

All of the memories that she had been unpacking in her mind filled up behind her eyes like water behind a dam. And as they continued to pile up, the dam began to crack. As she lifted her gaze, the crack burst open, pushing all of the memories out. This was it. It was over. She was free.

She looked around the disheveled room, her life's belongings packed up in recycled liquor boxes, with the smell of packing tape glue filling her lungs, a heavy sigh of relief echoed from her chest, pushing through the stream of tears, of memories, running down her face. There was the space that their bed had lay for so long, where she slept alone so many nights. The recollection of laying awake, wondering what tomorrow would be like. What he would be like. The sound of their screams echoed from the hole-laden wall. Holes from passion turned sour. The constant reminder that she would never be good enough for him. What a surreal feeling to see three years, the three years that she thought would become forever, packed up, separated, the memories tucked away in books, photos, ticket stubs, and receipts. As the pangs of sadness swept over her, she looked up from the pile of stale sentiment, imagining the new life she would create. The life where she was her, not who he wanted her to be. No longer conforming to the idea of the perfect partner, the ideal girl. No longer living her life at the service of someone that couldn't reciprocate the love that she had poured into this space. A life where she could breathe, where she could blossom like the wildflowers they had planted together last spring. And like the field mice running through those flowers, she finally felt that she was awake. That she had emerged from the three-year hibernation. Finally, free to run through this field we call life.