The A broke our M. Slowly cracking it during the A. I could see the small cracks, but didn't know what they were, or how they were getting there. I tried to fix them...but without knowing why they were there, I couldn't.
On dday, it shattered. I was there, looking at all the pieces on the ground, not knowing if it could ever be repaired, not knowing if it was even possible.
I tried carefully, gently putting the pieces back together, but they wouldn't stay. I threw the pieces across the room. I ignored the pieces. I hated the pieces, yet I loved them at the same time....but I couldn't fix it, not alone.
I held all the pieces, and the choice to allow him to help me repair it or not.
At first, he tried to help by showing me which pieces went where. I already knew that, but couldn't make them stay in place. They would balance for a while, then fall back away.
Then he tried to hold them in place with fools gold. It looked pretty, but didn't have the strength to hold the weight, the history, the importance of the pieces.
It wasn't until he found his real gold, not fools gold, that the pieces started to go back together. Finding that gold took a long time. Sometimes what he thought was real, wasn't. Sometimes there were so many impurities, the pieces either didn't fit smoothly together or ended up slipping, or never setting firmly in place.
At times, I held back pieces, even when he had the gold to repair the pieces. I had to be sure that he wouldn't grow tired of mining the gold and there wouldn't be enough to put all the pieces back together. The sharp edges would eventually kill me.
Over time I saw that he had found, within him, a vein of gold. He didn't have to look outside himself to mine it. Slowly, the pieces went back together. Sometimes they fit in perfectly, sometimes we had to search for slivers of pieces before we could fill in the crack.
Seeing the vessel now, it is beautiful. Not because of the A, but because of how we repaired it. It's beautiful in it's own way. It's strong. It's imperfect. It's ours..and all the scars and cracks remind us of the work we've done to make it so.
[This message edited by unfound at 10:37 AM, October 20th (Sunday)]
My WS tried fools gold and then walked.
My marriage is still in pieces.
For a while, I thought I was in pieces too. But I'm not a broken pot. I'm more like my alabaster votive.
My alabaster votive has flaws throughout. You can't actually see them when the candle isn't lit, but they're there. But when the light is shining through it, the flaws are visible to all. Amazingly though, these don't make it ugly or worthless. The light shining through it gives the alabaster character and makes the flaws beautiful.
My marriage is like the broken pot. I still have a faint hope that perhaps WH could discover his true gold. But no matter what happens to my broken pot, I will be a beautiful alabaster votive with the light shining through.
[This message edited by Softcentre at 10:22 AM, October 20th (Sunday)]
Finally reached indifference & looking forward to my new beginning
If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.
The axe "forgets"- the tree remembers.
Divorced and super good with that Me- FBS 42 Him- EX!! 38 17 years 2 DS- 15 and 16 DDay 1- 07-24-2013 DDay
"Oh, why do my actions have consequences?" ~ Homer Simpson "She knew my one weakness: That I'm weak." ~ Homer Simpson
The people you do your life with shape the life you live
If it would fit on a vanity license plate I'd get it.
Or maybe it's tattoo time...
Thank you so much for sharing this.
Madhatters. More Ddays than birthdays, at this point.
Thanks and hopefully working on getting those pieces together.
HBH
Wedding: April 9, 1994
Son: 1998 (college freshman) Son: 2002 (high school freshman)
Caught at AP's house: 10 Aug 2012
I do not have it all together.
