Layers

The thing with divorce is that it creates tangled, sticky messes of seemingly everyday life. For a long, long time.

My ex and I cannot cut the ties of our relationship. The main tie - being Ben - is almost the easiest to manage, at this point. I never thought I'd say that. Co-parenting with Kevin, regardless of trips to Italy during the school year and inconsistent bedtime routines, is much simpler than the financial and emotional ties that we share.

In the span of two short weeks, we have spiraled into yet another vortex of raw emotion, fueled by financial commitments to one another and unresolved sadness.

It would have been a much more successful divorce had we both absolved the other of financial responsibilities and waved a magic wand of forgiveness.

But we didn't do either and now we are stuck between between two layers of one messy cake.

And right in the middle is me watching Ben lunge for Kevin's girlfriend and want to cuddle with her, Kevin sending middle of the night emails from Italy with regrets and "what ifs", the prospect of Kevin's girlfriend moving in with him (and Ben), mortgages that are stuck because we're both still intertwined in the details, Ben asking why I can't go on vacations with him and Kevin when "there are three seats across in the airplane; one for you too, Mommy."

The situation at hand is immobilizing but I think that it's supposed to be. I've always thought that when you don't know what to do, making at least one decision can help you find your way. But not in this case. My heart, my gut, everything is telling me to pause. To sit still. To wait. Because something will unfold.