Today the date was set for the court appearance to formally dissolve my marriage. It will be at 9am on December 7th. I’m glad that it will finally be all resolved, finished, all that, but it also forces me to think about things.

Everyone knows that life changes in all kinds of ways when you get a divorce, but I’m still surprised by some of the things that come up.

I knew that I would lose most of the “joint friends,” or at least I thought I knew, but I guess some part of me thought they’d still want to have something to do with me. I admit I haven’t been very good at keeping up the communication, but it’s frustrating that it’s entirely up to me. I mean, I do have one or two things going on in my life right now.

I understand that I won’t be invited to larger events where certain soon-to-be-former-spouses will be in attendance, but a quick hello now and then would have been nice. I did get one or two such acknowledgements of my existence early on, but my responses apparently weren’t riveting enough, because there’s been nothing since.

I’m not complaining, and I don’t fault these people for it at all. I know it’s almost a necessity to take sides in situations like this, and I understand why they haven’t taken my side. I don’t expect it to be any other way. But it still hurts.

At least I do have a few people who have stuck by me, who’ve forced me to not close myself off from human contact, who’ve persisted in keeping in touch with me because they know I have a hard time doing it myself, what with all the shame and guilt I feel about my marriage ending. And the friendship of these few is even more special and appreciated because of the contrast with everyone I’ve lost. So if you’re one of the people who hasn’t given up on me, thank you. It means everything to me.

The other thing about this whole divorce saga that has surprised me is the kind of grief I’m feeling. I wasn’t happy for a long time, but it’s still hard to suddenly switch gears from sharing a life together (no matter how problematic that life is) to being acquaintances who can’t even hug each other anymore.

In divorce, you lose the person who always had your back, publicly at least. The two-become-one thing disintegrates, and you’re suddenly alone again. You lose the dream, the potential. The hope that everything will magically get better someday.

You grieve for the years lost, wasted even, and you wonder if any relationship can last. And, at the most ridiculous times, you remember little private jokes, secrets, the kinds of things best friends share, and you know they’re gone forever.

And even though things were bad a lot of the time, there were still good bits. There was laughter and closeness and most of all friendship.

Even though I know without doubt that I made the right decision, I didn’t expect to have so many regrets and feel such a sense of loss.

I’m hoping that, once the house sells and I can actually get started on my new life as an independent person, I won’t dwell on all this garbage as much. I can’t wait for that to happen.