Sheets of empty canvas, untouched sheets of clay, were laid spread out before me...
I know someday you'll have a beautiful life, I know you'll be a sun in somebody else's sky, but why, Why, why can't it be, can't it be mine.
~Pearl Jam, Black
I was reminded by a friend tonight that you really don't understand divorce until it is your relationship. I accept that and so I speak from first hand ignorance or maybe someone that has lost something important, in the past.
Infinite possibilities arise as what was once an intricate picture has been washed away to leave empty canvas, awaiting the artist brush. The only color that seems to drip aimless with each stroke is black. Even the most Innocent scenario becomes tattooed with memory. Seeing the thing or person that has been lost, in the eyes of those that you meet. Those that seek to give comfort or solace, rub like sandpaper across the exposed heart. The mantra in your head screams "why".
My heart breaks. I can not imagine ever losing my wife, my family. You have my compassion, my prayers. My first hope is that you work out your differences. My second hope is that you find new life, that new dreams bring vibrant colors to your pallet from which you paint. What may seem impossible to us, God can heal.