So in my About Me blurb, I call books "my refuge and my sanctuary," and for the very first time this week it occurred to me that it is indeed possible to take that too far.
I read a book this week called Breadcrumbs, by Anne Ursu. Here is the Goodreads link for it, and here is the link to my review of it. Reading the book itself was such an interesting experience. I sympathized with Hazel and her absolute dependence on Jack for identity and belonging-ness more than I wanted to admit. What has stayed with me, though, is the way the "villain" in the story is Jack's desire to stop feeling so he won't have to hurt anymore.
I tried my hardest as I read that to ignore that it's how I've been approaching life for the last three years. And books have been a great way for me to accomplish it. It's safe to read about other people feeling things, and to hide in their worlds so I don't have to face my own.
In what may turn out to be among the strangest events of my life, as I was putting this book on my shelf, I found a business card for the place my ex-husband and I stayed on our honeymoon. I have no memory of obtaining a business card from them, nor have I seen this card over the past 6 years since we stayed there. But, as I'm busy not-thinking about how I've been avoiding dealing with emotions while putting away this book that struck perhaps a little too close to home... there it was.
To give the necessary background information as succinctly as possible: I believe I really did love him, I was 27 and I was sure I knew who he was and what I was getting into. I understood what I thought my life would be like with him and I wanted to live it. So we got married. And we had three of the most perfect days imaginable on our honeymoon. I can still very clearly remember sitting on the patio of a restaurant our second day, looking up into the sky and thinking that I finally understood what it meant to be perfectly happy.
Things changed as soon as we got home. I mentioned in my last post about my being the most easily manipulated person on the planet... yeah. Head games ensued for the next 2 1/2 years, until I finally realized one day (again, while outside looking up at the sky... apparently that's my thing) that I either had to get out or lose who I was completely. So, in my very bravest and toughest decision ever, I left.
And I've been actively trying to not have to think about how much all of that hurt for the 3 years since.
It's interesting, though. As soon as I found that business card, all I felt was shock. And then I immediately shut down, expecting to feel everything I've been trying to not have to feel. But I didn't. I don't know if enough time has passed or if I've just gotten enough perspective now, but while losing the idea of what we could have had still makes me very sad, I realized that I was able to remember those three days and be grateful for them. I don't know if I'd be willing to quite go so far as to say that those days make the rest of what I went through worth it, but they come very close. Because of those days, I know that perfect happiness is actually possible. And it might just be worth trying to feel again if I can feel like that again.
And then Thursday, I discovered what may become one of my new favorite stories ever. The Student Prince, a fanfic (I know, I know, but it's AMAZING! Honest.) by FayJay. I suppose I became convinced by my attempt at love that it was a ridiculous and impossible notion. And while I am indeed reasonable enough to realize that this is fiction, I suppose it was the scope of it that struck me. Merlin is brave enough to love Arthur, and selfless enough to do so in secret because it's the best thing for Arthur. And while it hurts, Merlin knows its for the best. And then the entire world changes to give him the happy ending he deserves.
I love happy endings! I'm addicted to them. And having read books without them, 1984, for example, has scarred me so much that in order to be able to read a book in peace I have to first be assured of the happiness of its ending. (As long as I know in advance that it's not happy, I'm okay reading it. I just need to mentally prepare myself!) The ending to this story, though... spectacular! Epic! Romantic to a degree that would be impossible to equal in real life.
I suppose it's the timing of reading such a gloriously happy ending so soon after my realization that it might indeed just be worth putting up with the bad days if you get a few happy ones in exchange, but I adored this. And maybe I needed the over-the-top-ness of it to remind me that my three perfect days were certainly not with a prince, and not created by magic, but they were still happy beyond the degree I'd expected to achieve in this life. And days like that really DO now seem worth all the rest.
