There Are Pieces Of You You’ve Never Seen.

Last night Kristen and I were out on our balcony.  We moved here last summer but didn’t get to any of the outdoor space — it stayed “decorated” with a couple of folding beach chairs courtesy of my parents.  I’m sure the neighbors loved us.

It was the first night where Hartford trusted that it had actually, finally been released into summer.  Our downtown building has a community garden space that we overlook.  Friends were down there cooking out and playing cards, and we could hear sounds of happy people on the back porch at Republic.

We stayed outside long after the sun went down — so long that we watched the bright moon move from one side of the building’s huge, old chimney clear to the other.  Kristen brought out a speaker so the night would have a soundtrack.  We went all the way from Christopher Cross (I had no idea that “Think Of Laura” was a frequent flyer on General Hospital.  Weren’t the 80s great?) to Whitney Houston to The Hooters.

We all have albums lodged in our brains from certain times and things in our life.  Counting Crow’s August and Everything After was released in September of my senior year of high school and became representative of the first real transition in my life.  From being the daughter of my parents, a child of my small town, the friend of people I had known since nursery school into, well, I didn’t yet know what.

But it was when Kristen played Tori Amos that I was caught.  “Tear In Your Hand” was the score to my first brutal breakup.

All the world just stopped now
So you say you don’t wanna stay together anymore
Let me take a deep breath, Babe
If you need me, me and Neil will be hangin’ out with the dream king
Neil says hi by the way
I don’t believe you’re leaving ’cause me and Charles Manson like the same ice cream
I think it’s that girl
And I think there are pieces of me you’ve never seen
Maybe she’s just pieces of me you’ve never seen.

The end of a marriage is still at its core a breakup and the end of a major relationship without marriage is not less devastating than a divorce.  “Tear In Your Hand” is about being broken up with when you don’t want to be.  When you are baffled and desperate.  And, to this day, when it plays I am transported right back there.

All the world is
All I am
The black of the blackest ocean
And that tear in your hand
All the world is dangling, dangling, dangling for me, Darling.
You don’t know the power that you have
With that tear in your hand

Part of the joy of aging is the opportunity to connect, as Steve Jobs said, the dots looking backwards.  Every relationship that ended — whether or not at my initiation — lead me to know in my core that we are not supposed to be with a person who doesn’t want to be with us.  That we deserve to be with someone who either makes us better or alone so that we can make our own self better.  Learning this was so transformative for me and is so ingrained in my core that I opened a divorce law firm with my wife.

We believe in helping our clients discover a happier life for themselves.  More, we believe that one day — even when they can’t stand the idea of their marriage ending — they will wake up and discover that they are happier.

Imagine if the former me — the me in a ball listening to Tori Amos — knew that I would be on a porch on an early summer night with my amazing partner in life (and law), our beloved spaniel, overlooking the adopted city I adore.

I am crazy happy.

There are pieces of you you’ve never seen.

_________________________________________________________________

Freed Marcroft guides select clients through the legal aspects of divorce and family law matters while remaining mindful of their overall wellness. 

To discuss our helping with your situation, contact us today either here or by phone at 860-560-8160.

Written by Meghan Freed