When I was married I used to have a recurring dream. The setting of the dream would change, but the underlying theme would be the same. I would find myself in a situation in which I was not married to my husband. In some dreams we had broken up. In others he had never existed. I would realize his absence by the fact that I was not wearing my wedding ring. When I woke I always found myself extremely unsettled. I was so scared to think of my life without him because such an existence was unimaginable to me. I believed that we had been destined to be together and that I had been waiting for him my entire life. I know it sounds cliche and all that, but it is really how I felt. My marriage was never perfect and I did not have grandiose romantic illusions about what love and marriage were about. That was actually what always convinced me that we were meant to be together: the fact that our marriage was real and honest and open.
Ironically, here I am 12 years after I said I do. Our marriage was anything but honest. My wedding ring is not on my finger. We are not together and since his suicide 2 years ago, he no longer exists in this world.
When I awoke from those dreams I felt a fear deep inside my soul. A fear of losing him. But then I would look to my side and he was there. I would often tell him about my dream and he would comfort me and tell me he was never leaving and that everything would be OK.
Every now and then I experience a feeling of disbelief. My story fast forwards through my brain and I feel like all of that could not possibly have happened to me. But it did. And no matter how happy I am in my life right now, no matter how much I have healed, there will always be that raw, wounded part inside of me. At those times when it rises to awareness, I just have to be kind to myself, take some deep breaths and tell myself everything will be OK. And it will. And it is.