Finding Forty, Day 229; Awakened

Twice in the last week I woke up crying, barely able to breathe, my heart racing.   Both times I awoke from dreams about A.

In the first, he and I were riding in a car, him driving.  As I watched his hands on the steering wheel, saw the profile of his face, I heard him tell me that he was going to visit an old friend, a woman he used to work with.  I've never met her, but I remember him emailing her in the aftermath of me admitting to the affair.  I think she must have been single, attractive, accomplished in his white collar world and immediately she was a threat to me.

In the dream, as he told me he was planning to travel out of town to visit her, I remember asking myself, "Okay, Kate, how does this make you feel?"   As far as I could tell, I was somewhat alright with the news. But then, I asked, "So you two have been corresponding?"  and he replied, "Yes, we've exchanged quite a few emails."

And that was when I awoke, feeling sick and upset.

You see, A never responded to my emails.  They'd sit for days in his inbox, sometimes even months and that broke my heart.  Dreaming that he would actually reply immediately to another woman and also continue to write her back broke my heart.

Two days later, I wake up and find myself crying out loud, tears running down my face.   In this dream, which is less clear to me, A is leaving, going on a trip with our youngest son.    I'm begging them not to go and then asking them to at least stay in touch.  As I lean over to hug them goodbye, I can feel the wall between us, the distance, the cold.  

Some might say they are just dreams, but I have my own theory.

In sleep, when my thoughts are finally free from the constraints of my need for control and order, they roam free.  My subconscious mind takes me places I can barely dare to tread in the light of day.  

I've begun to think of it as therapy.   My dreams bring forth topics that must be addressed but that I might never have the courage to summon otherwise.

A is moving on.   He is distancing himself from me, not out of hatred or malice, but to protect himself.  I understand that.   Moving on will eventually mean reaching out to someone else.   Honestly, at this point in time, I cannot fathom him with anyone else.   But, I cannot imagine him with me either anymore, so I can't hold on to him or something that isn't working.

These are painful realities to accept and I believe the softest way to begin understanding all of this is for my mind to bring it to me under the guise of slumber.

I haven't told him any of this.   It's been a very busy week and we are doing well with some of our harder conversations simmering on the back burners for a while.

In time, there is much to be discussed.

It seems I can only really handle a little at a time.   Despite going through the motions and beginning and ending each day with as much purpose and joy as I can muster, I remain profoundly scared and sad.

But I haven't given up hope.

I've not blogged in so long, there is more to tell, but work beckons.

Tonight I hope to be back with the more of this story.