Love is Dead – Casualty of the Divorce

I got to talking today with some friends from work about the nature of my divorce. It occurred to me during that retelling that not just my marriage died during that time, but also the belief I had held onto for years that love exists.

Is Love Even Real?

Love is a construct. One misrepresented in books. I read one too many romance novels growing up. In the aftermath of my parent’s broken relationship, I wanted to believe in love. I wanted something that wasn’t the shitshow of their divorce. 

I didn’t want to have any messiness in my relationship. I wanted what I read about in books, my one true love. I wished for my other half who would know me and appreciate me and be loyal and true to me.

Basically, the opposite of what my mother had.

A shitty situation

She had the ex-husband with the new wife, the one he brought around our house. Inside I knew, that there was something not right about my dad bringing his new wife over to my mom’s house when he came to spend time with us. As an adult looking back, I want to go back in the past and punch my dad in the face.

But that was what I had to look up to. I didn’t like it. I saw that her situation made my mother unhappy, even if I didn’t understand why. 

I didn’t want to repeat her mistakes. When I got married and the relationship started having problems, I tried to make it work. When the relationship could not be repaired, I filed for divorce.

After the divorce was final I refused to date. I turned down several offers with the excuse that the divorce was too fresh. But divorce PTSD is a thing. And I had it. I literally was having panic attacks over the thought of having to put myself out there.

Mistakes were made

In the end, I didn’t repeat her mistakes because I made new ones all my own, and still ended up in somewhat the same place: a bitter, single mother. 

Unlike my mother, I am not trying again. No relationships for me. Once burned twice shy.