“It shouldn’t be this hard.” Those words were uttered exactly one year ago today. Sitting on the floor in my son’s room, holding my three-month old daughter, I had what was perhaps the most honest conversation in years with my husband. We were both exhausted from trying to love, like, and tolerate each other. It shouldn’t be emotionally and physically draining to make a marriage work. Granted, I am not an expert on what one needs to do in order to make a marriage be successful and thriving. I don’t have lists and diagrams to use when you are trying to decide if your marriage is worth saving. All I have is the knowledge that there is a line; there comes a point when you’re no longer attempting to fix what is breaking but instead are holding the jagged pieces and admitting it is shattered beyond the repair of super glue.
Over the past 365 days, I have felt many emotions. I have had triumphs, failures, and moments that I found myself drowning in all the things that were being thrown at me. I experienced moments of clarity and moments that I begged the universe to please give me a win because I couldn’t handle another failure. I have leaned on people when my soul ached for support and accepted help I didn’t realize I needed. I’ve navigated through issues that I was not prepared to face and I’ve been forced to wade into the muck to acknowledge the multitude of emotions these issues have brought to the surface. Despite all of this, I have never wavered in knowing that the decision to separate was the correct one.
Last year, if you had told me that I would be carving out time to sit at my desk and type out a blog post, I likely would have laughed. Last year was filled with such a contradiction of emotions; relief from finally admitting it wasn’t working, sorrow to admit that we failed. Writing has pulled me close and whispered “It’s okay. Feel your feelings. Write about them. I’m here.” I need to devote more time to translating my swirling emotions into words, but that will come. There’s so much adjusting, tweaking, scrutinizing, and readjusting going on currently.
When I try to think of a timeline, my mind becomes muddled. We decided we wanted to divorce on St. Patrick’s Day. Yes. That fact is solid. The kids had Spring Break the following week. Lee left for the week. He started being gone most of the time after that. Weekend trips to Georgia, staying at friends’ homes. I’m not entirely sure when he no longer “came home.” Maybe it was May or around then? I know it was later in the year that he moved in with a woman he claimed was just a roommate. For those curious, they’re now dating.
The kids began spending more time with him around October, roughly the same time he moved into a one-bedroom apartment with his now-girlfriend.
This is where my entry stopped. I don’t remember what called me away; I’m sure it was a kid. I have chosen to end this here.