Another entry full of grief. She is struggling to let go of all her hopes for the future. To create new dreams with lower expectations around her new life. It’s terribly sad for me to read this. She is giving up on me and on herself. Maybe there never was a place for us.
I woke up an hour ago an haven’t been able to fall back asleep.
H was snoring, my daughter’s night light was too bright, and the bed at my moms house isn’t that comfortable. I came downstairs hoping that would help but my mind is too busy.
Everything that I dreamed for my future is in question right now. H is carrying on as though our plans don’t need to change but I have a lot of questions. In the last two weeks I’ve told him about being a sub and he found out he [has a medical issue]. It’s hard to imagine carrying on as though nothing is different. I understand why he wants to though: it’s comforting. It’s comforting to think about buying [his dream house] and settling into a life in the city. It’s known. But things aren’t the same. We have to form new dreams.
The death of a dream is a funny thing. How can you grieve for something that was never real? How can you grieve for a possibility of what might have been? How can you grieve for something that is intangible? And yet, I think that’s what has me awake tonight. Grief. Grief that my marriage is changing and maybe will end. Grief that I may not live in my favorite city. Grief that even if I were to live in that house it wouldn’t be the way I thought. Grief about Ryan and the friendship that was ended too quickly. I mourn the life that could have been. I’m grateful for the way those dreams sustained me through my darkness in [foreign city] and last fall. But they were just dreams and I need to let them go so I can open myself up to the new ways that God is working in me: the ways I’m seeing myself more clearly, the ways I’m caring for H through a hard time, the ways I need to become even more loving and compassionate and giving both to myself and others.
It’s so hard to let go. But I know that if I can’t those dreams will become ghosts that haunt me. I’ve got to let them go and be thankful for what they were.
But for tonight I’m in mourning. And maybe when the sun comes up in a few hours I can contemplate forming new dreams. But for now, I mourn.