When I pass the university where my husband studied law for two years, I feel a sudden twinge of guilt. When his friends ask me where he is and why he isn't with us, I feel like it is my fault.
Two nights ago, for the first time since Diego left, I had a difficult depression episode. I cried so hard I nearly woke Lucia up several times. I had to practice breathing exercises to keep myself calm. My depression logic went like this:
"If Diego hadn't married you, he never would have left his family, friends, and home. He would be here right now, probably graduated with his law degree and applying to some dream job of his. He definitely wouldn't be off in a foreign country's military."
Before, when these depressive thoughts came to my mind, I always had Diego there to soothe my worries. That night I thought instead,
"Well, he's not here now, and it's your fault."
Depression logic. Doesn't make sense, but these are the things I think.
I survived the night by focusing on breathing mostly. The next day I decided to talk to my father-in-law about my concerns.
My father-in-law is an amazing man, and very wise. Among other wise counsel, he told me this,
"Diego knew what he was doing when he married you. When he chose to love you, he knew he would be giving up a lot."
It took nearly the whole day to finally sink in. I guess I've always thought that love is a choice, and if it isn't the right choice, you shouldn't make it. But along with the "right" choice, in the back of my mind it also meant the most "convenient" choice. Obviously, love is very seldom convenient. You often have to change some plans here and there. But not your entire life. Right?
It finally hit me that Diego's love for me HAD changed all of his plans. All of the plans and ideas he'd had since he was a little boy. But he chose that love. And as a result he has a very different life than he had planned. But I have to remember why he did it. And the amazing life we have now. Different, but amazing nonetheless.
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