Last Monday, I locked the door to my apartment and headed down the hall on my way to work and had a moment of panic that I had forgotten to put on my ring. I actually stopped and was ready to turn around when I felt my hand and realized the ring I was looking for was my wedding ring, a ring I had taken off for the last time more than 13 months ago.
I repeated that feeling on Wednesday morning although with not quite the same level of panic. It had been so many months since I had felt for my missing ring so it really felt off that I was suddenly looking for it again.
I'm not sure what specifically triggered it. There has been a lot on my mind lately. But maybe it was the social media memory from last Sunday of my visit to the labyrinth and all that I was going through a year ago. I've written about this labyrinth before, including as recently as this past Tuesday.
A year ago last Sunday, I walked the labyrinth to prepare myself for one of the last meetings I would have with my ex-husband. With the divorce final, we sat across from each other at a conference room in the main building of our apartment complex, each with our computers and me with a favorite mug full of water. That mug was a safety blanket for me - something to hold on to and distract myself with through the discomfort of that meeting.
That day we did a final accounting of our joint accounts, divided the money, signed off on joint assets and debts awarded to the other, and made a list of the last few things we needed to do. He had an agenda for that meeting, all typed out and printed, so I let him lead. But I remember having to chime in quite a few times about things he had forgotten or didn't understand - his agenda was far from complete.
He typed up almost every word that was said in an e-mail that he then sent me as if he needed a clear record of the meeting. I swear he spent more time typing than talking. I remember calmly sitting there, patiently waiting.
He proactively got on the defensive multiple times as if he thought I would try to cheat him out of something or take advantage of him. But each time he realized I was being fair, he backed off.
He was so cold and calculated. A stranger was sitting across from me that day. If the man I saw that day had shown up on the first day we met, there would have been no first date.
I tried once more to get some closure with a casual statement about how fast the end had come and asked him if he felt the same. He said no and went back to his list.
The lack of empathy from someone who not that long ago had claimed to love me. The lack of closure even after all my attempts to communicate what I needed to make this end easier on me. The overnight transition from best friend to stranger. The identity crisis as I didn't know even what name I was let alone what food I liked to eat or what hotel room I would prefer. It was all a lot and so much of it still feels unresolved. My body seems to remember these unresolved moments each time we hit the year mark.
This one, in particular, hits home with my struggle this week on his intentions. Maybe the reach for my wedding ring was my body's way of reminding me what I still need to process.
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