I had a dream last night that my wedding ring, which is a thick gold band that I wear on my left hand had been grotesquely mangled, as though someone had taken huge steel cutters to it. The gold was mangled and sharp.
I don’t have many dreams about Arron. At the beginning I used to dream about him, but I could never see his face. It was always hidden by a hat, or I was riding behind him on the back of a motorcycle. Lately when I do have dreams about Arron, I am angry at him because he has just told me that he is leaving me, and wants a divorce.
I can’t help be struck by the thought that my mind is helping me divorce my ghost husband. Deep down, it feels like something I need to do in order to truly get beyond to whatever might be next. Perhaps its what his ghost needs to get in order to untether himself from my worldly grip.
It feels odd to wake up with that anguished, angry, heartsick feeling, something I imagine people go through when their spouse leaves them. But it also feels like good pain, that last scratch that removes the scab revealing the tender pink skin underneath.
The scar is tender and fragile, but in no danger of bursting open. It tells me that I am ready to jump back into the fray and risk new scars.