summer

 Quarantine made us closer. We transformed our front porch into this really cool beach scene with real sand and shells we had collected over the summers past, and backdrops, twinkle lights, a small table, 2 beach chairs, and a tiki torch blue tooth speaker. It was our little oasis, the place I couldn’t wait to get back to. Every night for months, once the little kids were in bed we’d meet out in our porch and relax together, bond, talk, laugh, and love. I can’t remember a time when I felt more comfort, love, and safety in one space.

Our relationship was as close to perfect as you can get...it was completely and totally mind bogglingly amazing. I never knew that kind of happiness and love could be achieved, especially in the middle of a year that is upside down and twisted in every way.

I was happy. Really and truly happy. It was like we got to that sweet spot you hear about, where everything falls into place, no one is fighting, everyone is kind and loving and accepting.

It was like living in a real life Schitt’s Creek.

The level of trust and openness we had evolved into something so much greater, into something bigger than the both of us. Our time out there on our beach oasis transcended time and space. Nothing existed during that time except for the two of us. My best friend, my partner in life, my lover. We had it, we were there, we had the moon within reach.

I should have known that it was too good to last. Nothing good ever does, at least not in my life.

When I opened up the box I did it with my eyes wide open, knowing what I might discover could change everything. I knew there was a chance I was imploding my life. But I had to know the truth. I needed to know exactly what happened. I couldn’t live the rest of my life in the dark, not knowing the truth. It would nag at me and nag at me for the rest of my life. This was the only chance I had to know the truth. There are so many questions I have about my paternal grandfather and there is no one left alive who could answer the questions. What little we found online only left a lot more questions, again and no one left to ask.

I systematically tore down my life and everything I thought I knew about my relationship in one fell swoop. But I couldn’t live anymore with the questions, the uncertainty. I still can’t wrap my brain around the fact that 21 years just went up in flames by the match I lit.

Right now I can’t even imagine a time, a way that we could ever reach that level of happiness again. That I could trust him with my person again. That I could trust him as my person again. At no point in 21 years did he feel like he could trust me enough to come clean...I’m not sure what that says about me. All I do know is that I am so far down into this deep dark pit that I can’t see the light yet.

One of the things I told my husband this summer was that he smelled like home to me, that spot that indents on his shoulder where I would always rest my head and take a deep breath of him and feel love, safety, security, and a calmness I’ve never felt before. Now that’s gone and all I feel is sad and empty, scared and alone. I lost my best friend. I don’t know what I am going to do now. Maybe one day I will be able to feel grateful for that time, however fleeting. Right now it just feels like a cruel joke, getting to experience that level of happiness for such a short period of time, enough to know it exists, but that for whatever reason it can’t last, not for me. But as I continue to process and grieve, my mind and heart keep going back to the summer, where for a very brief moment I knew I was going to be ok. That everything was going to be ok. I have no security now. I feel like I’m free falling with no parachute and no net. It feels like I have been falling forever but the journey is only just beginning. But for a moment there, we almost had the moon and stars, and I got a taste of what true contented-ness felt like.

I guess I should be grateful that at least we had the summer.