We are on the other side of 2018, planted gingerly in 2019. I say gingerly, because it is a good word and a good concept. Although I am pretty sure we are not going to be going back.
On New Year’s Day I received a text from vindictive ex- with whom I have not communicated with in a positive way since 2008. A happy new year text. I was surprised. And filled in the blanks with the fantasy thinking that allowed our marriage to last 24 years.
He is older. With the new year he was feeling less aggressive, and more conciliatory. We have children together. Wouldn’t a grown up relationship be so… so adult. Finally. He is maturing. He is almost 60 for God’s sake. Good.
Before I could reply I found out he sent it to me by mistake. And when he found out he had done so, he was upset for having sent me a civil message.
Fantasy thinking. My specialty. And the only way that allowed our marriage to last 24 years.
The fact that I have never heard anything from him or about him that gives me the slightest regret that I left, makes me profoundly sad.
With that sadness comes relief that I did not stick it out another 10 years, with the hopes that he might change. Shudder.
I have not been melancholic. I have simply had melancholic moments. When thinking about these things from under the wing of a rickety Porter express flying death bucket (i.e. an airplane), feelings hardly register at all.