emancipation

the bonsai tree lived 15 years before it was perched on the table at my wedding reception. there were bonsais on all of the tables - that's what i used for centerpieces. they were beautiful but, though i also gave bonsai care books to those who 'won' the trees, one by one, across the nation, the bonsais committed suicide. our older, larger tree made it. for a while.

when i decided to leave i planned to take it with me. tom had never cared about any of it but, strangely, he wanted to keep that tree. it had done pretty well over the two years of our marriage and i'd always found it interesting that the tree thrived where we as a couple did not.

i left, treeless. tom met mom in atlanta a couple of months later to bring her a few things i'd forgotten in my haste (my cool oval wall clock, primarily). he brought the tree with him. it was now a collection of spiky branches and dried leaves. in all these months, it has never recovered. it seems the tree really did symbolize the life-blood of the marriage - that i was the life-blood of the marriage and, in my absence, it ceased to exist. i'd long felt i was doing it all alone. hmm. wonder how that sounds. actually, i don't care how that sounds.

the days and weeks preceding this moment have been filled with insightful, at times revelatory conversation with some of the people i've newly met. it has been invigorating in some ways, draining in others. though these conversations were never about what i'm in the midst of, they have worked to crystallize events that have been brewing as i approach the one-year mark; the mark at which i can legally file for divorce. this has been a tough week as i am suddenly running up against resistance from tom. i didn't expect that. i find myself thinking about aloneness and moving forward. about opportunity as i try and shake this weight from my ankle. it is an absolutely physical sensation and i think the fact that it's only one ankle is promising.

i am floating amongst strangers these days, not really lighting anyplace and without my customary sources of back-up. i've heard physical distance shouldn't impede closeness, that i should be able to lean on people far away. i find this to be untrue. this is a reflection on me, no one else. and so, i am blogging about it. what a strange time.


ps - i just threw away that damned bonsai. ahhh, the weight begins to lift...