Phantom limbs and anniversaries

I have been with my ex for almost half of my life. It's no wonder that at times I expect him to be there. He is like a phantom limb and, because we have children together, I still see him so he's like a amputated limb that gets reattached occasionally. This analogy is getting absurd but how do you just walk away and shut it off? I suppose things will evolve, that some day in the future I will relate to him like any other man friend -- in a cordial and removed way.

I saw the ex at a school function recently. We had time before it started and stood outside together. It was awkward. He asked how I was and that's all it took for my emotional Tourettes to unleash itself. I said everything -- what was happening on the job front, the emotional front, the parenting front. He didn't respond or share anything. He just stared at me. I didn't stop chattering until my baby's teacher stuck her head out of the gym and announced that the program was starting. That little interlude -- I can't call it an exchange -- was a microcosm of our 20 years together distilled in 15 minutes. Afterward I felt filleted and remorseful. It's why I'm a terrible poker player. I can't even begin to understand how to play my cards close to the vest. I don't even have a vest.

Saturday I'm going to a 50th wedding anniversary celebration. Five years ago I wouldn't have appreciated this. I used to think people who stayed married that long were held together by ennui, just too lazy to separate. I don't think that way anymore. It takes lots of hard f-ing work. Kudos to all you married people.