R.A.D.I.C.A.L. Thoughts
Dear blog readers: This is a poem I wrote soon after I was divorced. But the story doesn't end there. As much as you think otherwise, your life after divorce can be absolutely, unbelievably full of good things. The good thing is: you decide. So read this poem, and even though you might be - like I was - "heartbroken that divorce describes your life," remember that divorce can allow you new (and wonderful) joy in the next part of your life. God promises that ... if you trust him. So be bold. Be brave. Find that new glorious life that is waiting!
DIVORCE
What an ugly
caustic
horrible word.
I hate how it looks on the page.
I hate the way it makes my heart hurt.
I hate the fears it conjures up...
lonely nights
with no one to feel close ... skin to skin
lonely mornings
with no one to look out the window
while we're still snuggled under the sheets
lonely days
with no one to go for a quick bicycle ride
going to soccer games alone
going to school functions without you at my side
holidays
trips
and I can't even imagine seeing you share life with someone else.
But when I can finally face the facts with less sadness,
maybe then I'll understand that divorce might mean something else.
Maybe it will mean
nights when I'm totally secure that the important people in my life
are honest
and faithful.
maybe it will mean not having nights of knotted stomachs
or mornings
or middle of the afternoons
or feeling once again that sick,
gut-wrenching
discovery of betrayal.
Maybe it will mean looking out at the moon and sharing the beautiful sight...
not wondering if you are somewhere screwing your girlfriend.
Maybe it will mean not agonizing in the darkness
wondering in the quiet if you wish
you were in someone else's bed.
Maybe it will mean feeling more free to be myself.
and sharing more time with people who laugh easily ...
people who are fun
and who know that God makes a difference.
Maybe it will mean finding bits of myself
that have somehow been lost over the years
and maybe finding someone good and true to share myself with.
Maybe.
But I still hate the word divorce,
and I'm utterly heartbroken it describes my life.
