Posts tagged ‘Memories’

March 16, 2011

My Perfect Ring of Scars

by bye2mrwrong

I’ve been asked many times why I still wear my wedding band. My husband took his off a few months ago. Till this day I wonder if he did it because he met someone else, was told it was inappropriate, or maybe just because he didn’t want to be reminded of me every time he looked down at his finger.

I’ve talked to people who told me they took theirs off as soon as they realized that the marriage was falling apart, that it wasn’t worth anything. Me, I don’t want to take mine off. And if I don’t want to I shouldn’t have to, right?!

First of all, it was an expensive ring, and it’s stunningly beautiful. It took me and my husband months to find the perfect matching rings. We searched for it high and low, in 3 different countries, until we laid eyes on the just the right one.

Second, sometimes when I’m going out and I get hit on by ridiculously drunk, or just horrendously ugly, stupid or just not my type men; I lift my hand up and explain that I’m married. I know, I know it’s a little bit of a white lie since OK officially I am still married, but in reality I’m actually practically divorced. But it gets me out of difficult situation easily without breaking any hearts.

But it’s not the beauty of it, or even its practical use that keeps me wearing it. It’s also not because I’m still partly taken. Definitely not. It’s just that this ring is a reminder of who I used to be, of my life before. Of the man I chose and loved. Of the dreams I hoped for with him. It’s a reminder of the extremely young, innocent and naïve person I used to be, and the broken image of that person that is left now.

I’m not saying I will never take it off. Maybe one day I won’t have the need any more to be reminded. Or maybe I will be OK with moving forward, without looking back. And of-course if another man comes along and replaces this ring with another, then I guess I won’t mind.

But for now it is my perfect ring of scars.

February 23, 2011

Nostalgic Moments

by bye2mrwrong

Don’t stress over people in your past, there’s a reason why they didn’t make it to your future.

I think a defining moment in one’s life comes the minute we are able to let go of the past, live in the present and look toward the future. When we are able to stop beating ourselves up over what might have been.

But sometimes the shoulda, woulda, coulda cannot escape our minds, and fills our thoughts with grief and remorse. Vulnerable and frail, I frequently wonder about what could have been. My thoughts are drawn to those picture-perfect memories which can never be forgotten, and I succumb to an aching feeling that what’s past is past forever, and nothing can turn back the hands of time. Unable to let go of the past and that false sense of nostalgia which haunts me, I am lost in a perfect state of delusional denial.

Doubt and fear swallow me whole and I find myself trying to find fault in me. Was I good enough? Did I do my best? Could I have tried harder? I realize how unhealthy dwelling on the past is, but rummaging through our past, with melancholy and regret is nothing but unnatural. The past has value, and should not be discarded entirely; but there comes a point when it is time to stop obsessively ruminating, time to stop holding on to a past we have no control over, time to learn the hard lessons we have been taught, and permit ourselves to move on.

As hindsight is 20-20, it’s easy to look back and see what we coulda, shoulda, woulda, done.  Anyone can look back and point out past imperfections. We could drive ourselves crazy by forever wondering how we could have prevented something from happening. But how far can these questions go? (i.e. What if he never would have cheated? What if I never would have met him? What if she would never have been born?). And where is that getting us? The shoulda woulda coulda song will never lead to anything, and should be banned from our minds. So today I am finally able to let go of regret, accept the present, and let the past rest in peace.

February 12, 2011

Silence

by bye2mrwrong

After writing about my monster in-laws, I guess it’s only logical that I write about my husband, my soon-to-be ex. But although many words float in my head, spinning round and round, I cannot seem to write them down. Words cannot describe how I feel.

I keep wondering about the kind of man my husband was, and the monster that he has become. I think about the kind of love he gave me; controlling, and blinding, never enough. It was an abusive love, bruising and harmful, bittersweet. Knowing now that “the one who loves the least controls the relationship” and seeing how he controlled the younger version of me, I have to wonder if maybe it was not love at all.

On my weak days I hate. I hate him for what he has done, and what he continues to do. For the blame and guilt he let me carry on my shoulders. For the affair and the behavior that came afterward. For not having fought for us. For manipulating others to believe that he tried.

I hate myself for the weakling I have become; without him, because of him. I hate that I let him control me and manipulate me. I hate how I let my relationship sabotage my confidence and my pride.  I hate feeling like a failure, ashamed that I was not good enough.

On my strong days I love. I love him for what he was for me and for the 9 years in which he made me happy. I love him for everything that I have learned from him. I love the blissful ignorance which protected me for so long. But above all I love me for the woman I have grown into because of him, without him.

While my thoughts of him still linger, we have long since parted in silence; but tears and pain have not taken away the longing memories and false sense of nostalgia I am left with in the silence of the cold and lonely nights.