-Coldplay
My first night in St. Louis included a 2 am wake-up call by
tornado sirens. Huddled in my 5’10” basement, I watched as water seeped in and
puddled on the floor. Tears welled up in my eyes. I hate tornadoes, and this
was hard. Two hours later, I woke up again to the sound of hail hitting my
already rattling windows.
A couple of days later, after my landlord finally installed
my dryer, I was relieved to catch up on laundry. I had gotten all caught up
before moving my first load to the new apartment, and after more than two weeks,
I was out of everything. I ran down to pull out my towels and discovered … they
hadn’t dried at all. My landlord came back and realized that the gas line wasn’t
hooked up. The next time I used it, it was leaking gas. Over the next several
uses, I learned that only one setting actually has heat, and it doesn’t shut
off automatically. I should mention this all spanned about three weeks. To
date, I haven’t gotten totally caught up. I don’t mind doing laundry, but this
is hard.
When we tried to install my cabinet shelves, they didn’t all
fit. The first time I used my dishwasher, it didn’t drain all the way. My antique
lock broke, and I locked myself out overnight. My bathroom mirror was up so
high, I could only see from my chin up. The first time I used my oven, it set
off the smoke alarm. I loved the idea of a newly renovated apartment, but this
was hard.
Once I learned to sleep through the rattling of my bedroom windows
and the traffic on my street (which had appeared desolate when we first viewed
the place), I was awakened by a whole new set of noises. Creaks, pops and
groans seemed to echo through my house at random, all night. By the time I
realized it was caused by the heating duct work of two apartments snaking
across my basement ceiling, I had worked myself up to the point where I was
lucky if I got five hours of uninterrupted sleep. Sleep had become stressful.
Even knowing it was the heater, and that the noises were worst right after the heater
turned off, every noise sounded like someone was in my back stairwell.
I sat on my bed and had Jeremie open and close both the
front and the back door so I’d know what it sounded like. It sounded nothing
like the noises at night. I slept about three hours that night. After waking up
every hour the next night, I called Jeremie at 3:45 am, desperate for any
distraction. He remarkably woke up, even though he’s the heaviest sleeper I
know. Fifteen minutes into our phone call, someone tried to break into his
house. I’m not even kidding. He heard two loud bangs on his front door, his dog
went crazy, and he called the cops. Nothing else happened, but the next day we saw
two muddy kick marks on his door.
I’ve wanted – so badly – for YEARS – to live in St. Louis.
But man, this is freaking hard.
I finally said out loud what I’d been embarrassed to admit.
When I lie in bed and hear those noises, even though I know it’s just the
heater, my tired mind goes to ridiculous places. Here’s some example dialogue:
I wonder why the last lady moved out of this apartment after 20 years. Maybe
she died. Maybe she died in this
apartment. Maybe she was murdered. Maybe that’s why my landlord renovated.
Maybe she doesn’t like that I’m living here.
In case you’ve ever had thoughts like that, try telling them
to someone else. Their reaction will help you realize how preposterous you
sound. Those thoughts out of my head, my parents came to visit. They had
several suggestions and ultimately loaned me a noisy fan. Finally, I’ve slept
through a couple of nights now and I’m hoping I’m over it.
They say it’s not worth having if it’s easy. They say good
things come to those who wait.
I could have chosen not to get a divorce. Say what you will
about whether it was the right decision or not, but I definitely chose the hard
way.
I could have skipped DivorceCare, but I wouldn’t have
learned anything from my mistakes. I could have rushed into marriage with the
first viable candidate and been past all of this a long time ago, but I would
have ended up exactly where I started.
I could have stayed in Jeff City, but my life would have
been stagnant. I could have looked at apartments in the suburbs, but that would
have been giving in to fear. I could have moved in with Jeremie, sacrificing
everything I’ve been trying to build within myself for the past two years. I
chose the hard way.
I believe that when you push yourself, you grow. When you
choose the hard way, you learn more about yourself. When you deal with difficulty,
you become more confident in your abilities.
When I started considering changing my life, I remember
thinking that just thinking about it was hard. I had no idea what was ahead of
me. I know I am changing. I am growing, and I am a different person than I was.
I’m choosing to do things on my own. I’m making the life I want. Not because it
is easy, but because it is hard.
