Ok, so it technically isn't my birthday now. It's been over for a little over an hour, but I just gave myself a big, huge present - the gift of closing a door. People talk about ending relationships and closing "the door", but in my experience, that's not really how it works. There isn't just one door that needs to be closed. You can't intertwine 2 lives and expect there to be only 1 point of attachment. It just doesn't work that way.
The hardest part is right after you close the first door. You have that sense of accomplishment, of closure. You go on with life thinking that it's over. You've done the impossible. The next thing you know, there's another door that needs to be closed. No, it's not the same one, but it needs closing all the same. So you close that one and again think that the process is over. Wrong again! Suddenly you realize that everywhere you turn there are open doors that need closing. You frantically run around the room of your life trying to close doors only to run into painful memories at every turn. As you sit down to cry in the middle of the room of misery, you see a hallway. That hallway is the only way you see that leads out of the room where you've been stuck, isolated and alone. You take a deep breath and start down the hallway. Along the way, there are still doors that need to be closed; doors that lead down paths you no longer want to travel. As you make your way down the hallway, you stop and deal with the memories and close the doors; but it is much less frantic and painful than that horrible room.
I was so thankful when I found that hallway, that ray of hope. Before that, I truly felt that I would die, that my heart would absolutely explode from overwhelming pain of being trapped in that room with all the memories of the past 4 years. Eventually, the doors along the hallway get further apart and you don't have to deal with facing the past as often. It becomes more bearable even though it still hurts and sometimes rips your heart out.
Today, I took out the envelope that contained our first - and last - family Christmas picture. I've been avoiding that envelope for over a year, knowing the excrutiating torture and tears it contained. But I forced myself to look at them, to feel the anguish of missing them, of being a family. Then I took one more look and dropped it in the trash. I have the good memories in my heart and there is absolutely no point in holding on to the pain. It doesn't hurt him...only me, and he's hurt me enough. I deserve better. I deserve to be happy. We all do.
My decision today: Let go of the pain. He's not worth it. Let God heal it, close the door and move on.
