Did you ever see that movie with Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson, Something's Gotta Give? I own it and watch it over and over again, partly because her life writing in that house by the ocean is my absolute dream, but also because there's something very true and funny about the way they depict her heartbreak. Shelley and I always laugh about the crying montage, in which Diane Keaton cries, wails, stomps her feet... falls asleep and wakes up, opens her eyes for a moment, and immediately begins sobbing again. That's how I handle heartbreak, with wild abandon - throwing myself into it, letting it consume me. Well, I guess that's how I handle most emotions.
So even though this split from Tex is my decision, I've been fully wracked by grief and sadness. Whatever it is calling me home - besides my parents, who most definitely have been calling for years now - doesn't make it any easier to leave this sweet woman who I've shared my life with for so long. From New York to Paris to Dublin to Israel to Boston to New Zealand to Texas.... shit, we've covered a lot of ground. We've stepped forward into our adulthoods together. We've been at the heights of happiness together. When you build your life around another person, the deconstruction of that life is a painstaking process. It uncovers all your old wounds, all your weaknesses, all your neurotic tendencies. It involves inspecting every single damn thing in your life (today, for instance, I'm going through our CDs and separating them... and also going through the memories of our life together and analyzing them in terms of my inability to express myself in an honest way and my insecurity in the world by myself... two very different kinds of sorting, through both the literal STUFF and the emotional "stuff").
I personally think that breaking-up, while proverbially hard to do, is one of the greatest growing experiences anyone can ever have. It seems, now, to not be a major coincedence that as 2008 turned to 2009, I decided to challenge myself, and poured on the projects. First, I decided to write a novel (which has stalled at around 210 pages, but is hopefully not dead). Second, I put a few dozen hours into my friend Jackie's year-long coaching course, helping her to put together documents and write some copy (this sounds simple, but it was simultaneously time-consuming and life-altering, for various reasons I won't get into). Then, I decided to train for a half-marathon (I got up to 2.5 miles and sprained my ankle, so I'm back at square one, which, considering that I'm not a runner, is VERY square one). Those challenges feel GOOD. They're pushing me in interesting ways. Then, in the midst of examining and experiencing those challenges, I realized that the relationship in my life isn't serving me the way I need... it's not pushing me toward a higher way of being in the world... it's not doing, essentially, what the novel and the half-marathon and the work with Jackie have been doing for me. And when your relationship affects you less than getting yourself in shape... maybe it's time to change.
I've been reading a great book by an author who Jackie suggested to me, Daphne King Rosma - "Coming Apart." It talks about why relationships end and what processes we go through when they do. She says that relationships are humanity's way of developing... that at a certain point in our lives we reach the top of our personal ladder and need to be in a relationship with someone to push us farther. I have some discomfort with this concept, which I won't get into now, but at the same time I realize that it's exactly this idea that has lead me to end my relationship. It hasn't PUSHED me in a long time. It hasn't brought me closer into the center of my Self. And there is SOMETHING, some inner voice, some universal force, telling me that the next step of my growth is going to be in Massachusetts, not with Tex.
Anyway, so the grief is overwhelming, but today was the first day that I didn't wake up sobbing. In fact, it's 1:01pm and I officially haven't cried yet today! Score! I don't doubt that there's more agony awaiting me, but it occured to me this morning that, Crap, my dad and Kathy are coming to visit in FOUR DAYS! And in those four days I have to wrap up my job, which is going to be more work than I can possibly conceive of right now. So I'm vaccuuming, and dusting, and straightening, and scrubbing my bathtub, and a host of other activities that have little to nothing to do with letting go of my relationship. The busy work feels really good. Later I'm gonna go buy me some shoes. Because, seriously, considering the state I've been in lately, spending money on shoes is probably the least destructive of all potential recklessness I could throw myself into.
Still, I'm thinking on what this process entails as a whole. I'm imagining what it will be like to drive away from this house in two weeks. The thought makes me pretty nauseous and shaky. Then I think of what's waiting for me in MA. And that thought is a tiny bit exciting. All you northeasterners, prepare to catch me as I come hurtling up I-95, ok?? I'm gonna be a bit of a mess, but your Caitlin is coming home....
