By Valentine’s Day…. aka Divorce Season.
YES, divorce season. Tis the very season that our own previous marriages came undone, and the fact that we are indeed mere statistics was confirmed this week by a divorce lawyer we know.
(Her: It’s my busy time of year!
Me: Oh really??
Her: Yup, every Valentine’s Day! Everyone tries one last time and realizes that it isn’t working.
Me: Wow. Well that adds up.)
It wasn’t just OUR divorce seasons- it’s divorce season all around.
Ironic how the very time of year that promises love is actually the time when promises can be broken, lives can become ruined, and death of the heart greets many. The one you love might be *actually* celebrating the day with some secret person you’ve never met. Or maybe you weren’t cheated on, but simply ignored. And so on.
So, to anyone who had a broken, shattered, and undone soul this Valentine’s Day— we celebrate you. We celebrate you this week, for still being here. We celebrate you this week, for being you. We celebrate you, because we know you probably aren’t celebrating yourself.
So, to anyone who had a broken, shattered, and undone soul this Valentine’s Day— we celebrate you. We celebrate you this week, for still being here. We celebrate you this week, for being you. We celebrate you, because we know you probably aren’t celebrating yourself.
Israel and Melinda
But you will someday, and that is a guarantee.
It’s a trite guarantee that you are likely too hurt to accept. If you want to yell at us, please do. We can take it. (You know why? Because we’ve both survived the hellish nightmare of divorce.) But we have a sneaky suspicion that someday you’ll understand.
You won’t understand because you’ve finally found a fairytale or because finally, you’ve found the love you deserve. In fact, life might only get harder. But you’ll become more solidly YOU. You’ll see things the way a survivor of the apocalypse looks out into the new world- messed up, on fire, missing some familiar faces, and filled with land mines (those you saw coming, and those you didn’t.)
You’ll see the scars all over yourself, feel the ache in your body from screaming into the abyss, and you might even cry yourself to sleep once or twice or a hundred times— which turns out, is actually kind of nice. (The harder the cry, the deeper the slumber.) The rubble on which you sleep will soften. It will break down until you actually rest comfortably & remember your cushy naive life of before and prefer what you are living in now. It’s more than just the messy wilderness. It’s the f***ed up ruck of today, and the best part is, you’ll put that heavy load down someday and rest.
It might be next year. It might be in a decade. But hold on, and don’t let go. And reach out if you need an ear. We are here.
AND please, please seek counseling if you are considering self harm or feel like you truly cannot go on. No shame. Ask for help.
I & M
Israel and Melinda 