He didn't say anything

I last posted on this blog Feburary 11th. In the week that followed, some key events and "conversations" prompted some serious and sustained reflection on my relationship with R.

On February 20th I made the tentative decision to divorce R.
On February 21st I gave all my fears about that decision to God in prayer.
On February 22nd I told R I wanted to divorce.

I'm not exaggerating in the least when I say that the lyrics to "Say Something" by A Great Big World PERFECTLY summarizes how my marriage ended:

"Say Something"

Say something, I'm giving up on you
I'll be the one, if you want me to
Anywhere I would've followed you
Say something, I'm giving up on you

And I am feeling so small
It was over my head
I know nothing at all

And I will stumble and fall
I'm still learning to love
Just starting to crawl

Say something, I'm giving up on you
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you
Anywhere I would've followed you
Say something, I'm giving up on you

And I will swallow my pride
You're the one that I love
And I'm saying goodbye

Say something, I'm giving up on you
And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you
And anywhere I would've followed you

Say something, I'm giving up on you

We lived together for the next few months in an in-house separation (with even more boundaries and distance) while he finished his degree and got a job. Looking back, it was one big blur of switching off with the kids, trying to hold it together in mediation, and holing up in my room with chocolate. Yet it was all strung together (tightly) with regular and persuasive manifestations of the spirit and the support of loving and generous friends and family.

On May 14th, he woke up early and drove a rental car to the airport to fly to a foreign country overseas where he has started a new job.

There are so many more details I could share, but just writing this is difficult enough. For this first month that he's been gone, I've done really well. It's been a honeymoon period. Except not. But as I've settled into life without him, I've felt safer and certain emotions I haven't had full access too are starting to stake their claim in my soul. Especially in the last 24 hours. Right now, I don't feel Victorious. I feel Vulnerable.

All I wanted was for the person I loved most in the world to stay in love with me. All I wanted was for us to keep choosing each other. Over and over again.

But he didn't choose me. He didn't even choose his precious children, who I will have full physical custody of once everything is signed and squared away (we're still working on the paperwork, but we're going no-fault and in my state you have to be separated for a year before you can divorce if you do no-fault).

I think I'm doing as well as anyone in my situation could possibly be doing. And I've said many times already, as far as being a divorced woman goes, I'm probably the most blessed/fortunate divorced woman in the history of the world. My children and I get to stay in our safe and comfortable home in our town where we have amazing friends; I don't have to interact with R except to help facilitate skype sessions with him for our girls; and in a couple months I'll be starting a full-time job which, with R's child support payments, will meet my family's needs.

BUT. I really wish there was a man who knew me better than anyone else and still loved me. And I wish that man could have been R. When I think of when we dated and early in our marriage---how he made me feel----oh, I miss that. And I can't pretend losing that interaction with him didn't affect me. No matter how strong your self-esteem is (and mine is pretty good, I think), there's something unsettling about your husband not wanting to talk to you anymore. And then there are my girls . . . oh, I can't go there tonight. Believe me when I say I have cried infinitely more tears for their sakes than for mine in the past few months. It could have been different. He could have chosen differently. He could have said something. I have to believe that. But I also have to accept that no matter what could have been, this is what IS.


P.S. In the last month the frequency with which I have used profanity has dropped precipitously. I can now authoritatively say that living with someone who doesn't want to live with you (and to be fair, that you no longer want to live with) makes it harder to be who you really want to be. I also consume far fewer calories (particularly in the form of chocolate) on a daily basis now that he is gone.