Some people call it a mourning, but it’s not, really. A mourning is more freeing, more luxurious; you can take your time and indulge in it, and no one begrudges you the cost. Because, hey man, someone died here. A divorce is not really like that, because life still goes on and you’re still expected to participate in it.
It’s way more like a divorce. Life is fine, and suddenly, it’s not. Life is still going on, but you’re just only in half of it. Maybe it happens gradually, with words that finalize the actions; I think most often it just sneaks up on the relationship, with people drifting in other directions.
And in divorce, so I’m told, there’s a careful line to be walked when talking about the event. You can be the sour divorcè, who spills their guts to anyone who will (or won’t) listen. Or you can be the tight-lipped one, who only shrugs with turned up lips and says, I don’t really know. People are going to talk, they’re bound to, but you never know what’s being put out there. (Especially if you’re the tight-lipped one, cause then you never ask either.) And when do you start seeing other people? When is it considered okay? And do you tell them?
You only know that there are eighty million times a day when you’d laugh and look to your left or reach for that Favorited number in your phone, only to realize that there’s emptiness on the other side. That there’s nothing there anymore.
I was told yesterday wisdom that, perhaps, I didn’t want to hear: friendships have lifespans. It’s more common in theatre, I think; you’re almost living with a cast for two months, and then you honestly may never see any of them ever again in your day-to-day life. But when it’s a REAL friend, someone that was blood to you, it’s like a divorce. It sucks, it’s excruciating, and even when you think you’re okay, you’re probably not. Not really.
“Divorce is like an amputation. You’ll survive, but there’s less of you.” – Margaret Atwood
Yes. That. Losing a friend is like that.
“The worst reconciliation is better than the best divorce.” – Michael Cervantes Saavedra
I can only hope so.