The one-year anniversary of my divorce has come and gone, and I almost didn’t notice.

That’s a good thing, the almost not noticing. It means that I have traveled a good, long distance from then and am more actually living now. It means that although I would still describe my heart as broken, broken-hearted is no longer my primary emotion. I no longer wake each morning with a distinct ache in my core. In fact, many mornings I wake enthralled, and happy to be concocting a new life. I’m not exuberant every morning mind you, but it does happen; this is a 180° change from one year ago.

There have been several turning points, several eye-openers, several major shifts. I need to spend a little time and consciously reflect on those, and give a some respect to the highlights that have helped me heal. In the meantime, I am happy just to note that January 19, 2011 occurred rather peacefully, unlike January 19, a year ago. Yay me!

Photo: skating ang or tina by Tina Marie Neal-Martisauskas and used with Creative Commons license.

In this month’s theme of “saved” and on the eve of the three-year anniversary of my wedding, I am contemplating that thing I was unable to save—my marriage.

Tomorrow is July 7, 2010. I was married on 07-07-07—ostensibly a favorably auspicious date—to a man with whom I believed my life was destined to be entwined. Our wedding invitation was inscribed with a haiku I had written using the word we thought believed our relationship: inevitable.

my heart and your heart
twining our lives together
inevitable

I really believed my own propaganda. It truly seemed that his desires for his life were on point with my desires for my own life. I thought I had found—not the man who would “complete” me but, the man who would encourage me, support me in my unfolding. And I would do the same for him.

Today, I think I still believe in all that, but my (ex) husband has made it clear that he does not. And I tired of trying to sway him, and I let myself become beat down by his need to un-do us; I lost the heart to try and “save” us.

So here I sit today, ten months since our final split, trying to come up with a new direction for my life. I’m having a damn difficult time sorting through my interests and talents and desires to find which direction I shall turn next. And this may sound pitiful, but I still feel broken-hearted, and that makes it difficult to feel enthused.

For now I will sit seaside and watch the sky and water turn the colors of dusk, while the swallows swoop through the driftwood, harvesting their dinners, and I will work on soothing my heart, rather than planning my life.