There’s nothing quite like the loneliness that comes with feeling alone in a bad marriage. It’s a fleeting loneliness, felt mostly when you’re in the company of other couples—watching them interact with each other, seeing their affection, and longing for a loving relationship like theirs.
The rest of the time you’re only vaguely aware that what you have is not what you want. But you’re too distracted with the kids and daily living to give it much thought. You just go on, taking each day as it comes, accepting that this is as good as it will ever get.
That was my life for 25 years.
My first marriage ended ended when my husband unexpectedly packed his bags one day and left while I was at work. There was no real sense of loneliness. The final days of that marriage had been so bad, all I honestly felt was relief that the ordeal was finally over.
However . . .
Walking through Lowe’s for I-can’t-remember-what, a man stopped me and said, “You have the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen.” I tried to smile. He was being kind. “My mom just died,” I said.
At the same time my marriage ended, my mom had died, leaving me numb and grief stricken. I was devastated, yet far too busy as a suddenly single mother to feel lonely.
Loneliness and my empty nest
True loneliness—unlike anything I had ever felt before—set in when my youngest left for college. After dropping her off at the school, I returned home alone to a silent house . . . an utterly empty nest.
A death or divorce, on its own, is enough to leave even the strongest person shattered to some extent. Suffer both at the same time, add an empty nest to the mix, and the feelings of grief, heartbreak, and loneliness can be profound. They were for me. I was keenly aware that life as I knew it was over. Both of my parents were gone . . . my husband and children, too. Alone and on my own for the first time in my life, I was going home to a big, quiet, empty house with no one there to turn to for comfort or support.
I was keenly aware that life as I knew it was over. Both of my parents were gone . . . my husband and children, too. Alone and on my own for the first time in my life, I was going home to a big, quiet, empty house with no one there to turn to for comfort or support.
I wrote a poem about those empty days. In it, I tried my best to convey what it honestly felt like for me to be alone. It was a conscious decision to “bullet” the poem’s title. The title was meant to mimic the feeling I had while being caught in the grips of loneliness. Fragmented. Broken. Disconnected. I felt all of those things and more.
I wrote a poem.
if you pause
to listen carefully
you can hear the silence in my house
fan blades whirl above
to ease the buttery warmth
of summer days gone wild
as ribbons of sunlight
stream in through glass
past trees beyond
in a world away
to play upon the polished floors
of golden oak
where footfalls of parties once held
laughter and words whispered by candlelight
somehow linger in the absolute stillness
the rooms lie dormant like me
in their patient wait
for human touch
silence assured
by wall-to-wall books meant to be read
and cushioned by a mind
where memories
echo on
soundlessly
I struggled with the heartache and loneliness that came with the three major life changes I experienced that year. It took several months before I started feeling better about myself and my situation.
This is what I did
I still missed my mom and kids, but I learned to live with it, let go, and forced myself to move on. I kept busy, focusing on my needs, the good in my new life, and the things that would make my new life better.
Loneliness can be debilitating if you don’t take steps to reach out to family and friends. If you’re suffering from a loneliness that won’t quit, or at the point where you don’t even want to leave the house, get help. If you can afford a therapist, find one. If you can’t, call local agencies, churches, or hospitals. Join a support group. Whatever you do, don’t wallow in it or think you’re the only one in the world who’s ever been miserable. You’re not alone. It happens to everyone.
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