Single-serving friends are human highlight reels. In a single meeting, any one is interesting, as they search a lifetime for those incidents that convey the image they hope to present. The highs and lows are offered up as representational antecdotes; for that brief meeting, the lag between those moments does not exist - life exists in leaps between peaks and valleys. An entire story unfolds in cliff notes with no history and no future. I am well versed in this art form.
I had lunch with my ex-husband today (yesterday). It was the first time I had seen him since he signed the divorce papers. The past 18 months of someone I had known intimately for nearly a decade were reduced to a single hour-long serving. My reel was playing as well. The conversation, point by point went almost exactly as I had predicted - though my foot landed in my mouth on a few occassions. It was a pleasant conversation with a pleasant person. Only after lunch did we begin to chat with even the slightest nod to reality.
Some of you may be aware that I am a bit of a smart-ass. It's almost unstoppable - the mouth moves much faster than the brain. Making every attempt to be as polite and supportive as possible, I still let rip a couple of times, not the least of which was, upon him asking if we could stay in touch, responding that I was not interested because "If you got out of prison, would you want to keep in touch with your cellmate, or just forget it ever happened?" This was followed quickly by a knock on the title to his last EP (which I assumed was a reference to me) and derision for one of the better songs on that effort. None of this meant with malice - just a mind that thinks in inappropriate analogies, especially when trying to keep things light.
Most see me as an open book, and I tend to agree - albeit with many passages distilled to sound bites and [this page is intentionally left blank]. Rough drafts are in heirogliphics. Considering my spelling skills, this is almost inevitable. My skill with summation tends to be lacking, and the song referenced above exposed and hurt me in ways I could not express at the time. I am a very private person in many regards, and the bitchy sound bites given often bely a much different sentiment. Only after I have come to terms with things in my head am I able to speak with any real meaning on a chapter of my life.
My ex-husband was a musican and a performer - an inherantly public persona. I remember the day I filled for divorce, commenting to a friend "Well, at least he has some good material for the next song." Finally hearing the results of that, almost a year ago was painful. Though anticipated, it felt like a second betrayal, as the veracity of the situation was compromised for that of the melody. My worst nightmare at the time was to walk into Old Navy and hear "that song" overhead; for the first time in my life, I wished absolute failure for another.
My issue was not simply hearing my ex sing his skewed version, but to hear an exhuberant chior clapping along in the background, knowing full well that many people I knew and had considered friends were there in full support. At the time it was difficult to not see it as a slap in the face - now publicly and collectively. What had been my life was gone, and I was no more than a footnote in a story told to attentive fans as they screamed back to the stage. He had the same life and the same circles that I had left, yet I had not found my place. Now I had digital verification that the gap had been filled in the lives of all the people involved; my presence all but forgotten by a circle with whom I once passed night after night after night.
Fast forward. Today, it is a different story. I drove home with his CD in my car. I listened to it all the way back home to Austin. There is some good music in there, and I found myself singing along and smiling to some of the older, well known tunes. That same song was on the CD I took home with me. Somewhere in the past few months, I finally feel at peace with all of it.
Coincidentally, Thursday night a friend asked me how I had changed in the last three years. Considering the last three years, the opposite would be a better question: how have I NOT changed in that time? "I want" is a phrase I can now complete without absolute defference to others. I do not need to change from one group to the next - searching for a way that I can be needed by them. My interests are my own. My decisions, my mistakes, my victories - all stem from the same source.
This "change" was a recurring theme through the lunch, as we both professed metamorphasis. I know I have, and am so grateful. I hope he has as well. The bitterness from the divorce has faded - in a way, it's difficult to reconcile that period of my life with the person I am today. I dealt with my ex and others honestly during that portion of my life, but those actions would now be a complete denial of myself; they exist in a language I cannot quite comprehend - the child that has willingly abandonded her native tounge.
I do not know if I will stay in touch with my ex, though I am more open to the idea now. I married a man who had all the makings of a wonderful, caring, loving human being. There is a wonderful man there, and seeing him today reminded me of that. I hope the actions he now takes in his life help him to live as one. I hope he creates for himself a life in which he is not just proud of the accolades from others, but of the path he has chosen to earn them, and the work that he has created.
It is nice to feel hope again for some one I once championed so enthusiastically.
Close chapter; fade to black.
