Birthday Blues

Today is your birthday. You just turned 32. It's the first birthday in 7 years that we aren't a couple, the first birthday in 4 that you're not my husband anymore. Before I met you, February 6th was just another day. And now, it will always make me think of you.

I wonder what you have planned today. But I also don't really want to know, because I'm sure it includes HER. I wonder what kind of sappy card she picked out for you, or if she made you a homemade one. I wonder what kind of gift she got you, if it was something practical or sentimental. I wonder if she's going to make you a special birthday dinner or even bake you a cake, or if you guys will go to a restaurant to celebrate instead. I wonder if you'll think of me at all. If you'll miss me. If you'll remember all the other birthdays we spent together. If you'll remember that on the first birthday of yours we were dating, I got you a tiny plot of land in Ireland - yes, that's a real thing you can purchase - because you told me one of your super distant relatives had been an Irish king. I still remember his name: Brian Boru. I wonder if I'll ever forget that. I wonder if you'll remember that one of our dreams was to visit that little plot of land together someday.

Today is one of those "firsts" - the first significant date after a loss. There's your birthday in February, my birthday in June, our wedding anniversary in August, and all the other big and little holidays throughout the year. Your birthday used to be a happy day. It was a day to celebrate YOU and all the reasons that my life was better simply because you had been born on a random Saturday in February of 1993. Now, this day is sad. It's a reminder of everything I used to have in the past and what I will never have in the future, at least with you.

But what about the present, the here and now?

How do I accept that February 6th, a day that used to be one of the most meaningful dates in our lives, has lost the significance it once had? February 6th will always be important to you, because it will always be your birthday. Nothing will ever change that. But it really isn't important to me anymore. It's no longer "my husband's birthday." And no one really celebrates their ex-husband's birthday, at least that I know of. So where does that leave me?

I guess I have to figure that out on my own. I give myself permission to grieve today, because this time last year, I didn't know that you'd no longer be my husband when you turned 32. And while I might cry (that remains to be seen), I'm not going to stay in bed all day with a box of tissues at my side. As difficult as it is to accept, life moves on. I'm trying to move on. And moving on means letting some things go. I can never erase the memories I have with you, or the love I once had for you (and maybe even that I still have), because you will forever be a chapter in the book that is my life. A part of me will always belong to you. How could it not, when you used to be my everything? But what I can do is learn how to carry those things without them weighing me down.

I have no idea what February 6th will look like next year. Maybe I'll think of you, and maybe it will still sting. Maybe the day will pass just like any other, and maybe I won't remember until it's already over. Maybe I will remember, and maybe I'll be a little bit closer to figuring out who I am without you.

Today, this day emanates sadness. I don't know if it always will. But I do know that each "first" I will experience doesn't have to be solely negative. Yes, it's the first birthday in 7 years that I haven't been C's girlfriend, fiancée, or wife. Yes, it's the first birthday as his ex-wife. But it's also the first birthday that I'm free to just be me. The first birthday that I don't have to think about trying to make somebody else happy. The first birthday I can focus on loving MYSELF instead of giving it all to someone else. And I don't mean that to sound selfish, so I hope it doesn't come across that way. I just mean that, for the first time in years, the future is mine and mine alone. I spent so long putting you first that I forgot about me. Who I was. What I wanted. So now, I'm on a journey to figure those things out. I'm rediscovering myself, one "first" at a time.

And because it's the first one without you, I need and want to say it one more time. So, even though you will almost certainly never see this: Happy Birthday, C. ♥︎ Hannah