This has been a tough week for me. I’ve been away on a break to an area that meant much to me and my ex-wife. It was somewhere we always looked forward to going to, to see old places and to experience new things. This place was the first true holiday we had together and now it is no longer an “us” place, it is a “me” place.
I thought I could handle going there and being there on my own. I’m not normally sentimental about places but this week I was. I was in tears at various points most days and I have no problem saying so. I am a man in touch with my feelings; I am rarely an emotional wreck but I don’t have a problem showing emotion to people.
I know it is part of mourning my marriage and the bizarre situation with Miss X has not helped (this is still not resolved – we’ve not spoken since that evening) despite my best efforts to get her to talk to me about all of this.
The memories my ex-wife and I shared over our 12 year relationship, the wonderful meals out, the walks we took, the places we returned to again and again, the unplanned drives, the relaxation, the open countryside, the deserted beaches, the having the place to ourselves for one week… it’s all gone forever. We will never visit that place again together and she may never go there again for as long as she lives.
That is the hardest part of all of this (not to mention a weird experience). The place, the area, it is not ours any more. It is part of our past, part of something gone… something died inside me this week. Yet this place is also part of my future, whether that be loving it for itself on my own or with somebody else. I have to rediscover the joy of an area so dear to my heart and learn to love it for myself, find new things, experience the area and appreciate it on my own.
In some ways, this has been the hardest part of my break-up and I really didn’t expect it to be.