Whew!

In a little over or under two weeks, I will go to Delhi for a final hearing on my divorce. Although I have taken my time over all of this - the filing of divorce, thinking it through, piecing together all the good memories I had of my marriage so that it makes me feel less of a fool as time goes by - it still hurts. I am not sure if its the ego or the heart. But whatever it is, it's sure not meek around pain.

Some days later, a chapter of my life will end and in a way, I am looking forward to that. Much like one looks forward to one's menses even though you know its going to cause discomfort and pain. At least, dregs and residues of everything that's wasted will be gone from the system. I intend to one day be good friends with my ex. He is a fine, kind, and in parts, an incredibly noble person. However, I want us to be friends when I am sure of my motives - when I know I am strong and happy enough to handle it. Not when I am almost besotted with memories and moods and the lingering, sweet pain that loneliness brings. The prospect of healing, today, though is hard to bear. It's making me weary. Heavy-lidded and hunched. But somewhere deep down, I know that tiding over this phase will get me to a place that is free and peaceful. That knowing, though, is really buried deep. Right now the chasm seems to be filled with moments of panic when I'll wake up in the middle of the night or stumble upon baby clothes and not know what the searing ripping in the chest is. Or know exactly what it is.

I came across a book I'd bought many years ago. I'd copied a poem in it:

Young Apollo, golden haired,
Stands dreaming at the brink of strife,
Magnificently unprepared,
For the long littleness of life.
- Rupert Brooke

This book that I found today - the one that has the poem that captures my mood - I'd bought that book the day I met A - a man who is fine, kind, and in parts, incredibly noble.