Learning to breathe underwater.

I just hung up the phone with Ex-husband number two and I can’t help thinking…. this relationship has been like being on the maiden voyage of the Titanic .


We had both been on different boats before and we knew the risks, but we thought this one was unsinkable, so we packed up all of our most expensive and worldly belongings and hand in hand we boarded the boat to set sail.    This was unlike any other voyage either of us had ever experienced, it was smooth sailing, we sang and danced and spent our evenings under the cover of starry nights, it was the new life we both had dreamed of.


Out of nowhere  we hit an iceberg, we didn’t see it coming, we were blind sided, it wasn’t even showing on the radar.    We hit it going full speed ahead and it ripped a hole so wide and deep in the hull that before we knew it we were sinking.    We ran for the life boats, but we didn’t reach them in time.   The ship broke in half.  All the lights went out.  We ran to the bottom half of the boat and clung for our lives to the sides.  And then…  I gave up, I was tired, exhausted, cold, afraid , I didn’t see a way to save either of us.     I let go first.


The minute I let go I started questioning my decision.   What if I had hung on for just a little bit longer, what if we had run to the other side of the boat, would we have found a life boat?  What if we had jumped together, would we have stayed alive long enough to be rescued?    I looked up as I flung myself off the boat and I saw his face, he could not believe that I had let go, he was stunned, shocked, and then he turned away and focused all his strength on saving himself.


There were so many casualties, friends we met along the way, family that was on board with us from the minute we set sail.   Our Children that trusted our decision to bring them with us on this voyage.

I still don’t know exactly  what happened, I just know that the ship’s hull is at the bottom of the sea somewhere and three years later I am still trying to raise it.

He’s not, he saved himself , he found refuge on someone else’s ship and has been sailing around with her ever since.

Me?  I still feel lost , alone and drifting at sea.

For months I am perfectly okay peering at the past as it sits at the bottom of the ocean collecting moss, decaying . I tell myself to let it rest, let it be, move on, stay where you are,  safely on shore away from the wreck..  It’s best this way.     Why would I even consider getting back on a boat that has already sunk?  Even if we raised that boat again, got back on for another voyage ,  it’s never going to be the same, the hull has been ripped open, all that water has surely rotted away the once strong outer shell.

And then for months I try to think of the best way to raise that ship from the floor of the ocean in which it is resting.   I talk myself in to the belief that there will never be another Titanic, that I should not rest until I raise it from it’s dreary grave.   I find myself thinking: Perhaps if sailed in a different ocean of water it would stand a chance?   Perhaps next time we could learn to navigate around the icebergs, knowing that they will always be in the water but steering clear of sinking the ship.

Perhaps…. I sealed my fate and I am forever doomed to Waltz with the ghost of my past , under water, on a ship that sunk long, long  ago.

dancing under water


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