Eastern philosophies speak of the virtue of ‘detachment’ as opposed to ‘attachment,’ which inevitably causes suffering.  I’ve come to understand this idea now from my own experience in ‘letting go.’  Letting go of people, outcomes, anything outside of my control.  Trusting in the greater plan.  Acceptance. 

This has taken many years, many lessons, much pain (and I’m still learning).  Aren’t we all?

My love would speak about “his” detachment style as if it were ‘the way.’  I could never put my finger on the specifics of it before, but always felt that he was misled somewhere in his belief.  The way he detached was the way I used to, and there was something not right about it.  How could I detach in a healthy way if I’m suppressing emotions?  I couldn’t.  I would be too cold.  Hypothermia is not healthy. 

Emotional detachment is different.  It’s a coping mechanism brought on by trauma.  It leaves you barren and can be used as a weapon to harm another.  To harm another, is to harm yourself (I can’t imagine that this is what The Buddha meant by his teachings on detachment).

I see that it was only in feeling everything deeply (dare I say overcoming emotions) that I was able to begin transcending attachment and taking emotion for what it is, a pointer.  Loving and letting go versus any fear-based attempt at keeping people at a safe distance and running (or the opposite, clinging). 

There is nothing cold or malicious about detaching in this way, the “virtuous” way.  It’s about freeing me from the pain of “my” own creation. 

~

So, we’re at the beach with our children and his parents.  I’m sure I will mess up the sequence of events as this time was a whirlwind…

I loved his boys greatly and he loved my daughter the same.  I think it would be safe to say that we all considered each other family.  As you now know though, things had changed.  He had changed.  We had changed.  He knew it too on some level because he said it aloud once towards the end. 

For “him,” for his ego, it was a change for the better.  He graduated school and was working all the time and felt validated by outsiders as a “man.”  Though I was truly proud of his achievements, for me, it was ultimately a change for the worse.  The real him was gone and I was scared for him, but there was nothing I could do. 

Of course, “he” would end up resenting me.  I represented everything he wanted to ignore about life…love, honesty, freedom.

We tried to have a normal weekend.  On the first day, we took the kids to the beach in the morning and stayed until early evening.  I don’t know if anyone else could tell, but I felt a grave separation between us even though we were trying to cover it up.  

He came up beside me, put his arms around my waist and dipped me right where the ocean met the sand.  It was a sweet, romantic gesture that I would have normally loved, but “he” felt like a stranger to me.

We made dinner together for the whole family and took the children for a walk on the beach that night.

It was a significant walk as it was the night of a Blue Moon…the second full moon of the month.  It’s somewhat of a rare phenomenon.

I remember holding my daughter’s little hand as we all walked over the dune toward the ocean.  It was cloudy out, but the moon was so bright that the clouds appeared to be glowing.  We made our way to the surf, and the clouds began to part.  As la Luna exposed herself, I couldn’t take my eyes off her as the others were running around on the sand.  Somehow, while bathing in her light, she was gifting me a gentle understanding (no, I’m not crazy.  Well, maybe a little.). 

It was one of the most revealing, honest moments I’ve experienced…

I am playing the role of my brother.  He, my brother’s wife.  I couldn’t save any of them, but I can save me.  I can show my daughter what saving yourself looks like and that nothing is more important.  I CAN break the chains.  Not only the chains of alcoholism and addiction, but the chains of deception and settling for less and not honoring or being true to oneself. This was our original parenting plan and even though “he” backed out, I can still do it. I have to still do it. With or without him. This is what it’s all been about, and it matters.

After we put the kids to bed that night, together we read the first chapter of a relationship book we had gotten to help us.  It was about ‘tending to yourself’ as that is the first step for a solid relationship.  Each person bringing their own wholeness (we had it right 2 years ago).  We both had to name something that we would start doing to better ourselves as individuals.  I believe his answer was to get back to meetings (I hope he did).  Mine was to start writing again (and I have just about every day since).

Even though my adoring, hopeful heart was relentless to the bitter end…afterwards, we made love for what would be the last time.  I played little spoon to his big spoon (my favorite) for the last time.  We said our “I love you’s” for the last time.

(And like with my brother, I now wish I could’ve given him one last hug.)

The next morning was our anniversary and, coincidentally, the 30th day. Time was up.

We grabbed our coffees and sat down to talk like old times.  He asked the question he always asked when he was too fucked up in his mind about us to make sense of things, “Why can’t we just be a normal couple?”

“Ground rules,” I replied with hardly a thought.  

You can’t change the rules (for yourself only) in the middle of the game without telling your teammate and expect a “normal” game to continue.  Besides, what the fuck is normal anyway?  You only see what “normal couples” choose to show.  I’ve known plenty of couples who are abusive or cheat or lie or brush things under the rug or pretend not to see red flags or are having the same arguments they’ve been having for 30 years! Posting the most “normal” shit on social media when in actuality they occupy some of the saddest, loneliest souls.  Who wants that kind of “normal?” Not me.

This type of love was designed to blow “normal” to pieces.  It was meant to break old paradigms and build NEW ones.  Our love was about redemption.

Our love saved me.

‘Ground rules’…with these two baseball-related words (and I don’t even like baseball), I inadvertently ended the entire game.

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