This post was written but not posted until 2023-10-14 - I was uncertain if I wanted to post it or not but have decided since that I will do so for myself despite feeling extremely vulnerable in so doing

Starting a New Chapter

It’s been an easier day than yesterday. It’s been difficult as hell, too, but easier than yesterday.

I’ve had a variety of reminders that I am not alone in this, even if I’m in this house with just our dog: Ollie. He’s certainly doing his level best to keep me busy, too.

I’ve had multiple conversations with a variety people, many of whom are at least partially aware of the last decade and a half of my relationship with Lou, and, the struggles that we’ve faced together as neurodiverse people with a wide variety of traumatic lived experience.

I mentioned yesterday that I am really trying to be reflective and introspective. I want to take this time I’ve been given and use it to good effect.

to that end I wanted to lay out some more thoughts as I continue my quest for extreme transparency. I hope that this gives me something to look back on in due time, and I really hope that anyone reading is able to understand where I am coming from.

Hope

Or: trust

I’m feeling hopeful. I’m hopeful that things will, ultimately, work out for the best.

I know that this is often considered foolish by some, to trust that things will work out as they’re meant to do.

I’m not one that believes implicitly in fate, that events will simply happen as they’re meant to. I truly believe that your actions do, indeed, have an impact on your journey through the river of time.

I believe that not everything is within your control either.

I think that one of the greatest lessons I’ve finally learned after all these years is that trying control everything generally results in control of nothing.

So finding a balance is critical.

Which sounds overly pragmatic, of course.

In practice it’s easier said than done, of course.

It’s a lesson I’ve taken from the “serenity prayer”, despite my feelings about prayer in general. I still find comfort in the idea that it is best to learn to accept the things you cannot change, change the things you can, and how to recognize the difference.

So I have hope, hope as in trust, that I’ll continue my path of “know better, do better”, even if the knowledge can be painful. I hope that I’ll adapt to this change and become better for having done so. I hope that I’ll continue to improve as person.

And I hope that this isn’t the end for Lou and I.

Love

I still love my spouse.

There is now a Lou shaped hole in my life.

Today, Sunday, was Waffle Day, but we didn’t have waffles.

Today would have been a great day to watch the last episode of this season of Only Murders in the Building with my best friend.

Today would have been a great day to do something nice for Lou, something to help her see just how much I love and appreciate her.

As I do both love and appreciate Lou, perhaps more than they will ever realize.

Peace

It’s not easy, but I am at peace.

I would love for things to have gone differently, and as I mention above: I have hope that this isn’t the end of our story.

But I’m at peace with the decision that Lou has made, the decisions that I have made, and the decisions we have made. I’m at peace with the situation in which I find myself.

I accept that this is all for the best. This is the way things need to be for us to move forward, at least for now.

What’s next?

Next, I will carry on to the best of my ability. I’ll do my best to be my best.

I know we’ll be navigating this together for some time, trying to strike the right balance in our relationship and parenting our children.

The Road Ahead

As I pen down these thoughts, I am filled with a mix of hope, love, and peace. I am also grounded in the reality that the journey ahead will be intricate and challenging. I commit to continuous growth, to “know better, do better,” not just for myself but also for Lou, our children, and anyone who is a part of this new chapter in my life.

While the future is rife with uncertainties, I trust that navigating these complexities is essential for progress. As the river of time unfolds its course, I remain open to the lessons and experiences it offers.

To you, dear reader, thank you for being a part of this vulnerable journey. Your presence, even in the form of these words on your screen, provides a certain sense of shared humanity that makes this all the more meaningful.

Here’s to embracing whatever comes next.