In high school, my boyfriend was my best friend and refuge from a world I don’t understand. We knew from the outset our relationship would end when we left for college. The idea of going to the same school didn’t even come up for discussion. One of the reasons our relationship worked is because of the expiration date. Knowing we weren’t together forever was the pressure valve on any disagreement. We stood by each other dreaming of different futures and were content for the company. Neither of us saw a future in Memphis and pretending otherwise was silly.
When I drove away from his house the day before he left for college I didn’t cry until I hit Broad Street. Accelerating to get on the interstate, usually my favorite part of driving home, caused a lurching in my gut. Deep down I knew I’d lost my only ally. Despite independent personalities, I didn’t have to feel alone at all during most of high school. I always knew there was someone in my corner, even if he didn’t agree with me. It was a kinship I took for granted and going forward I knew I’d never find something that pure again.
When I met my husband I was sure we’d be together forever. I waited almost 3 months before drunkenly confirming, “We’re gonna get married, right?” Caught off guard, his eyes widened briefly before stammering an affirmative. I kissed him and smiled. Later on he told someone we were engaged and I quickly corrected him – there’s no engagement until there’s a ring. I was just making sure we were on the same page. He waited an entire year before making it official. Knowing my answer didn’t make him less nervous about asking. He’s also plagued with terrible timing, which was evidenced in the actual proposal. Still, it was all going to plan.
Driving away from the lawyer’s office after finalizing the divorce, I cried at Manassas. Like a knife in my chest, I could feel the loss of his love. A pound of my own metaphorical flesh missing, I believe I did the right thing. I will never stop loving him and I will always wonder if I made a huge mistake. Most days I know things are better for him and that is a reason to be happy. If I’m going to hate myself and seek destruction it’s best not to take anyone down with me. From the outside it looks like I lost my mind and abandoned him. I can’t completely argue with that except for one truth – he knew I wasn’t going to stay in Memphis.
The last time I cried was driving away from Memphis. A bright January morning, sun shining and car packed I drove west across the Mississippi River around 10am. I was separating myself from an entire lifetime of friends and family. Not all of them dislike me. I just couldn’t stay and have any respect for myself anymore. I’d rather die trying to be the person I aspire toward than live comfortably below my potential. It’s been over a year since I left and I’m still kicking. Nothing in my future is for certain so it’s hard to keep the faith. My story it taking the form of two girls that are best friends. I identify with them both but haven’t found the right frame yet.