Unexpected

Geraniums? Geraniums? Really? That’s what I picked to mark this occasion? What is wrong with me? In my opinion, they’re not very pretty and they don’t smell good so why, oh, why did I pick Geraniums? Roses, carnations, sunflowers, daisies: anything would have been better than geraniums-even marigolds-which are not on my list of favorite flowers-would have been better than geraniums. My favorite flowers are lilies and that’s the most popular flower for these occasions. Why not lilies? I have no idea.

Maybe it’s because things happened so quickly but also felt to drag on forever. Maybe because it was so unexpected-certainly not anything I ever dreamed of going through: not even in my worst nightmares. Yet, here I am, dealing with it none the less.

How do you deal with going through the unexpected? Seriously, I’m asking: how do you? I have no idea how to proceed. I have no idea how to process what has happened much less know what my next step should be. I feel like someone is shining a 1000-watt light in my eyes and expecting me to be able to respond when all I can do is sputter. There is no responding. For the first time in my life, one of the loves of my life: words, have utterly and completely failed me.

There are no words to sufficiently describe what is happening: none. I could try, of course. Heartbreaking, earthshattering, faith-shaking, unbelievably painful would be a start but still not a complete description. Messy, life-altering in a never be the same again kind of way? Closer.

And please, don’t get me started on how this affects anyone else in my life, please. I can’t even wrap my brain around how this affects me much less how it affects other people. I know I need to think about that: I have little ones depending on me, but I just can’t: I just can’t.

Along with not knowing how to describe it or how to express it or how to process it, I have a million questions and thoughts bumping around in my head. Honestly, it’s giving me a headache.

All I want to do is eat ice cream and pretend-pretend that it never happened. Pretend that I don’t have a hundred different decisions that need to be made. Pretend that there is no one else going through this with me: I don’t want them to carry the excruciating pain. Pretend that life is the way it used to be hard but doable. Pretend, I just want to pretend.

I can’t. I can’t pretend. This is not going away. It is here. It demands that I deal with it. So, I drag myself off the couch, put away the ice cream and sign the papers and mail them to the attorney. That’s it: first decision made.

The phrase “love” is all you need is a lie. You do need love. In fact, it’s essential. However, love isn’t all you need: you also need work, patience, kindness, mercy and yes, love: lots of love. Even with those things, it’s no guarantee that you will have success.

What a sad ending to something that began with so much joy and enthusiasm. A beginning filled with hope and optimism. Who knew what a few years could do to people? Who knew that there would be challenges and actions and betrayals that were just could not be overcome? Not me, that’s for certain: not me.

Now that I think about it, geraniums might be the most appropriate flower for the death of a marriage: they are not very pretty, and they don’t smell good: the perfect symbol for an imperfect ending.