Letting go

The mountains are cloaked in fog, I snuggle under a blanket, listen to the rain coming down hard, and go over Friday’s mediation in my head. Love is such a peculiar thing…

Can it really be so fragile that it would shatter under the weight of the daily grind, in spite of all that brought T and I together? When the mediator asked what had attracted us to each other, we both said that we had a lot in common and could recognise ourselves in the other, that we valued having a family above all else.

I realise with a jolt that these still holds true in a way, and that part of his brutality is a desperate attempt to escape the pain he feels at hurting me. “Trust him with your son and let it go”, the mediator said, “because the more you interfere to protect your children, the further away it drives him”.

Through a fog of pain and fear, I am beginning to make out the unspoken implication that hung in the airless room: That I should let him go full stop. Now, how the heck are you supposed to do that?

U2 – Magnificent

The mess we’re in

Friday

The mediation is two hours away. Something heavy is crushing my lungs, I sit at my desk but my brain freezes and my guts twist with dread. Do I really have to do this? To be looked at with anger, confusion and vague disgust by the man who used to shine love on me? To be dragged through the rubble of what I saw as the most precious construction in my life? To feel blamed because sheer pain did sometimes cloud my judgement? To feel blamed for everything I am?

I look up and I see the daisies. They have sat on my desk since Thursday, an anonymous gift carefully bunched-up and watered in an improvised vase. I am intrigued, but do not even want to know who put them there. The mere fact that someone did this thoughtful little thing just for me, is like lighting a match in the deep cold darkness.

PJ Harvey – The mess we’re in