“A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I think, I too, have known autumn too long.” (E. E. Cummins)
By the end of September 2009, we were getting into the routine of our new life. My youngest spent the day being tended by someone other than me and was enjoying preschool three afternoons each week; my middle son was adjusting to his new school, piano lessons, and having his mom work full-time; my daughter was adjusting to her new school and new life and preparing dinner every night for the family; and my oldest was slowly adjusting to his new school, new life, and the role of oldest brother/not quite the father but was expected to do some of that type of thing for his siblings too.
Autumn came to Utah and with the seasonal changes came a huge one, for me personally, as well.
I had known “autumn” too long in my life. My divorce had been final for “only” 2 months, yet I had felt absolutely alone and lonely since March 18. (I couldn’t believe how alone I felt while still legally married and living in Colorado with my spouse in our home. The truth He had revealed had instantly changed not just our lives and our family, but our relationship as well. We were living in the same house, for the sake of our children, but we were not emotionally connected anymore. And after 20 years of companionship and what I thought had been a good relationship and a solid marriage, I was stunned at how different I felt. Instantly alone. Completely alone. Alone in the world. ALONE.)
I had moved away from my life, my friends, my support, and my social networks. And whether it was loneliness from moving, or loneliness from being single, I didn’t know. All I knew was that I couldn’t stand the loneliness anymore.
I decided I was ready to be more social.
I decided I was ready to meet people.
I decided I was ready to date. (Did I just say that?)
And while we’re on the subject, here’s a question: Who can be betrayed so completely and so thoroughly in every way for nearly 20 years of marriage and not only be willing to subject themselves to the possibility of that again, but be willing to trust others, even men, again? And so “soon?”
Call me crazy, call me whatever you want, but for some reason, I was. I had been lied to, deceived, betrayed, and everything else attendant with being the former spouse of a man running a Ponzi scheme for 15 years, yet I still was willing to trust. I’m guessing it was that optimistic, fairy tale-loving and believing part of me, manifesting itself again. (Or maybe it’s just the way I was raised? lol.)
Whatever it was, all I can say is that dating in the 21st century turned out to be a LOT different than the last time I had dated…the 1980s.
WHAT an UNEXPECTED LIFE.