Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 5

           

           OnSeptember9,2001,Imetwithmyhusbandface-to-faceforthelasttime,notrealizingthateveryfuturemeetingwouldnecessitatelawyersbetweenus,tomediate.Wehaddinnerinarestaurant.Itriedtotalkaboutourseparation,butallwedidwasfight.HeletmeknowthatIwasaliarandatraitorandthathehatedmeandwouldneverspeaktomeagain.TwomorningslaterIwokeupafteratroublednight’ssleeptofindthathijackedairplaneswerecrashingintothetwotallestbuildingsofmycity,aseverythinginvinciblethathadoncestoodtogethernowbecameasmolderingavalancheofruin.Icalledmyhusbandtomakesurehewassafeandwewepttogetheroverthisdisaster,butIdidnotgotohim.Duringthatweek,wheneveryoneinNewYorkCitydroppedanimosityindeferencetothelargertragedyathand,Istilldidnotgobacktomyhusband.Whichishowwebothknewitwasvery,veryover.

           It’snotmuchofanexaggerationtosaythatIdidnotsleepagainforthenextfourmonths.

           IthoughtIhadfallentobitsbefore,butnow(inharmonywiththeapparentcollapseoftheentireworld)mylifereallyturnedtosmash.IwincenowtothinkofwhatIimposedonDavidduringthosemonthswelivedtogether,rightafter9/11andmyseparationfrommyhusband.Imaginehissurprisetodiscoverthatthehappiest,mostconfidentwomanhe’devermetwasactually-whenyougotheralone-amurkyholeofbottomlessgrief.Onceagain,Icouldnotstopcrying.

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