Sunshine leaping into my arms.

In a few days I will be divorced. 

It will either be the day before my birthday or just after.

I no longer feel things.

This really should've been written in Haiku.  Divorce Haiku.

You hope beyond hope
Stars stutter your mind and heart
Wrong, pain, shit, stillness

My mother said something significant to me recently.  She asked if I was sad about the divorce because she "couldn't tell."

The truth is I am a master at concealing my feelings -- and let's be honest, it's a whole lot easier to believe that someone is ok rather than it is to believe they're unraveling one slimy scale at a time -- and I don't even mean to be. 

I don't try to deceive or misrepresent. I just can't share.

I've been loved and supported throughout this process and I have soaked it up like a desert-walker at a trough, but I only take what is offered.  I don't ask.  I simply cannot. 

This divorce has murdered me.  The Jessica that was is really no more.  And I don't say that to be dramatic or to illicit sympathy.  It really and truly just is.  I'm sure Rooster could say the same thing, or anyone who's ever gone through a traumatic and significant shift in their life.  It changes you.

I was changed after Dad died.  I was changed after Hawk was born. And now I am changed again.  Irreparably.

I have so much to say every day, but find that it's intense and sad.  I should probably write more to get it the fuck out of me, but I am embarrassed by the immensity of it, its boringness.  I read so many amazing blogs from people I really admire and I wish I could be more like them: pithy and bright, not dark and morose.  But... fuck.  I don't know what else to do. 

I have a post planned about how to muddle through a divorce with a 3 year old.  I think I have some really incredible tips, but I feel like such a failure (in life in general) that I haven't been able to muster the shell of self-acceptance needed to put it out there for public scrutiny. 

I can't believe one person even still reads this.  

But, here I am... tick-tacking away... doing my thing.  I'm ashamed and not ashamed all at the same time.  How can one human being be so goddamned conflicted anyway??  I'm exhausted.

Hawk is the light of my life.  He asked for me to come over and play with him while he was at Rooster's house the other day and I about had a fit I was so excited.  He's never done that before.  When he opens my bedroom door in the mornings his face is split in two with a smile and he says magical things like, "Good morning, sunshine!  Did you have good mommy-dreams?  I'm still a giraffe-tiger!"  What. the. fuck.

I'd like to say things will change around here, that the mood will get lighter, but that's a goddamned lie.  I have no idea when that will happen (at least I'm confident it's a "when" and not an "if").

Rooster is still my closest ally through all of this and that's almost as painful as if he were my biggest adversary. We're as thoughtful and considerate in the shredding of our relationship as we were in the braiding of it.  Ah, the irony. 

And there go the dozen emotions in as many directions.  I'm like a bomb that went off: shrapnel, broken bits, a splatter.  Divorced.