Denouement

During the emotionally difficult times of my separation and divorce, music was an important part of how I managed my grief. I found several songs that resonated with my grief and even seemed to carry the weight of that grief for me.

One song with that sort of sustaining effect was Josh Garrels' Ulysses.

I’m holding on to hope that one day this could be made right
Cause I’ve been shipwrecked and left for dead and I've seen the darkest sights

Those lines captured my confused state perfectly. Sadly – I think tragically – H and I still hurt each other far beyond what either of us wish. It is still a devastating shipwreck. But I have also held an almost naive hope that redemption was still possible.

Although much of the rest of the lyrics do not reflect my situation, the anguished tone does. He notes that there are false hopes to be resisted, like the deadly sirens in Homer's The Odyssey:

Sirens call my name, they say they’ll ease my pain, then break me on the stones

But after six years, I bring good news. A month ago I remarried!

I will say straight away that we cannot expect that will always be the outcome. Some of you guys will continue alone. Some will embrace and enjoy that singleness and for others it will be frustrating, lonely and like being half a person.

Nevertheless, for me, this is a very exciting new adventure. Also scary. The risk of marriage seems so much greater to those of us who know how badly it can go wrong.

A few months before our wedding I was reminded of one of my favourite songs from the 70's – Steely Dan's Home at Last, which also draws on the imagery of Ulysses, tied to the mast of his ship to avoid the lure of the sirens.

Well the danger on the rocks is surely past
Still I remain tied to the mast

After the brokenness and self-doubt, I appreciated that thought. Perhaps the danger was past and I could relax again.

Could it be that I have found my home at last?
Home at last.

I'm beginning to think I am.



... and so they all lived happily ever after.

I hope.


--Nat.

The back story

Everyone's story is unique and would require a lifetime to retell. But I guess I need to fill you in on how I got to this point.

I fell in love with H twenty years ago. In a whirlwind, we were engaged after a week or two and married three months later. It was a dream come true. H was 21 and I 30.

Our honeymoon was strained, and the ensuing year nothing less than traumatic. The details can wait for another time, but it has been hard work ever since. There have been good times, of course, but although we get on fine and seem pretty successful at raising a couple of kids, our marriage has been unsatisfying to both of us. H has never been a real partner. Rather than allowing herself to relax into real intimacy, she has built barriers to protect herself from me.

At 40, H has reconsidered the whole situation and informed me that she regrets that we got married. This is not a case of having lost the spark, but rather an admission that from the very beginning she didn't want to be married. She knew before we were married that it was the wrong thing, but too unsure of herself, maybe too ashamed, to call it off. She has tried to cope with the consequences of that, and tried to avoid the hurt that she knows being honest would have caused me.

I have loved and cherished and adored H above all else for almost 20 years, and now find that she doesn't want me. Never did want me.

We have been separated for 6 months and I am heart-broken. Not as tearful as I was a couple of months ago, though that keeps returning in uncontrollable cycles. We still live in the same house, which works well financially and for the kids, but it's no great fun seeing the one you love and constantly being reminded that she is not yours.

— Nat.