Straight from the heart: 27. When there’s nothing left.

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Straight from the heart: 27. When there’s nothing left.

So, the curtain is finally falling on my 18 and half year relationship, with my ex-husband.  Never have I ever thought, that this is how things would turn out.

It is, what it is

All the years of frustration and bottled up feelings and emotions, are coming to an end.  The life that I’ve had to date, is definitely in the past, it is my old history, and I shall neatly pack it away, hoping to never see signs of it again.  The life, that I plan to have, will have no room for negativity or disrespect, instead I aim to fill it with anything that makes me happy.

Excess baggage

There is no place in my life, or in my heart for ex-husband.  I refuse to carry this chapter of my life around like excess baggage, the weight of which would surely see me on my knees.  He has made suggestions that he would like to maintain some contact, but I just don’t have the strength anymore.  Why would I want to continue seeing someone, who has caused me so much pain and anguish?

Maybe he thinks that I may still have some need of him in my life, that I won’t cope being on my own.  But, somehow I figure he’s going to be needing me, he’s hoping that in some way or other, I will leave doors open for him, to come and go as he pleases.  That I will still be there loyal, kind and generous, still willing to help him out, as I have always done.  But I can’t, there is nothing left.

I am not that woman anymore.  I have nothing left for him.  Whatever I had left, has been soaked up and washed away.

Nothing left

I am not sure how I do actually ‘feel’ about my ex, I have no more tears left for him, they were cried out a long time ago.  I know I don’t care or worry for him in anyway.  I know I still bear a lot of anger toward him, yet I have detached myself so much, that he may as well be a stranger.  Any kind thoughts for him have long gone and I grimace at the mention of his name.  I don’t even want to have any conversations with him or about him, unless it’s absolutely necessary.

I certainly don’t want others to keep him alive in my life either, by asking if I’ve heard from him, or telling me they’ve seen/spoken to him.  After all, he is pursuing his new life.  So leave him be.

I just have nothing left for him.  Sx

So come with me
27. When there’s nothing left image 2

Sharon Carter-Wray

(21/05/2015)

Update

Reading this again, has made me feel a real sense of sadness.  Not for what happened or how things ended with my ex, but more because I can still feel the heartache of the disappointment, and the pain I was in at that time.

Next week, will mark the 5th anniversary of starting my life over, and I have never once looked back with any emotionally pangs or feeling of regret.  I know it was the right thing for me to do, but the bare bones of it is, is that if I hadn’t, I really have no idea where I would be right now.

I have a very strong belief that eventually he would have truly broken me.

I would probably have been in dire straits, with nothing to show for all my hard work and achievements.  I would have had no roof over my head, that would have surely been repossessed by now.  Even though I had spent 20 years of hard graft building up something to fall back on, it would have all disappeared.  And he would still have continued to feed on me, until he bled me completely dry.

Sadly, at that time no one really knew how bad I was, I had continued to wear the same face throughout; pulled my sleeves up as usual and got on with it.  I had no choice, because the fight to survive was going on internally.

Thankfully, that is all behind me now.

Now, when I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t just see my face anymore, I see what a remarkable woman I really am and have become.  Sx

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Published by Sharon Carter-Wray

I have been writing since I was 13 years old and I am now 52. It all began with a writing poetry project for school, and it has continued to evolve. It was a time that coincided with my brother’s seriously ill health, and his subsequent death from that illness; and writing was my way of dealing with that. As part of a ‘Life laundry’ exercise about 20 years ago, I destroyed a large part of my written work, mainly because I finally understood how it tied me to a place, that I never wanted to revisit again in my lifetime. It was also the mark of a turning point, recognizing my continual growth and healing. I find that writing is a way of releasing thoughts and untangling my complex mind, it always nourishes and makes me feel better. Even if sometimes my own words bring tears to my eyes. But I have noted over time, that the tears have become less. Even if the subject that caused them still hurts. In more recent years I have created and write for my own blog, called “Journey through a painful body and depressed mind”, as well as contributing to an online mental health site called “Mental Movement”. Both of these have witnessed my deepest and most desperate moments, whilst dealing with my own issues of depression and my failing physical health. I have written hundreds of poems over the years, expressing everything from joy, deep sorrow, bereavement to starting over again; it is definitely something I do when I need to restore balance. And they are written on all sorts of things, whatever was available to me at the time when the words chose to pour out of me; so they amount to quite a collection. I used to say that, “if anyone were to pick them up and read them, they would be holding ‘The book of my life story’ in their hands”. And that is still true to some degree today, but now I also express myself through my art & creativity, and the beautiful things that I create. A lot of what I am posting, was written as a teenager over 30 years ago, so please note the date at the end of each entry. However, in most cases, the contents are still very appropriate and ring very true today. I always knew back then, that I was wise beyond my years, and looking back now it’s almost as though I already knew what lay ahead of me. It’s as if my words were the very seed of my true vocation, as now I believe that writing is very much a part of my future and something I must do. I have only ever shared my written words with a few people in my life before, but now I feel brave enough to put myself out there and share with the world. I hope you enjoy. Sx

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