Phantom limb

When we first talked about getting divorced I took my ring off.
It seemed like a lie to wear it.

I mean what was the point?
You had broken all the vows that were associated with it.
Did I really need a piece of paper to tell me the marriage was over?

Actions speak louder than words.

And when you held the paper still for me to sign,
because my hand was shaking in rhythm with my sobs,
I knew.

It physically hurt to take the ring off, the ache of missing it almost unbearable at times.
I loved having that symbol on my finger as a reminder to me.
As a notice to others.

Once removed,
I never realized how much I touched it with my thumb for comfort.
Or did I start to do that when it was gone?
Searching in vain for something no longer there.
Like scratching a phantom limb.

Just because something is removed from you doesn't mean you'll stop feeling it there.

When I couldn't sleep at night, those first few months,
I would slip the ring back on my finger and off to sleep I would drift.

And when I'd wake
for a moment all would be o.k..
for a moment I would forget what you had done to us.
for a moment I was floating in ignorant bliss.

And then it would hit me that the ring didn't look right on my finger.
And I would remember everything.
And I'd take the ring off and feel the emptiness again.

It took me a long time to put the ring away.

Even longer to go back to it.

I knew it would be opening Pandora's box,
but I wanted to see it.
I wanted to put it on.

Problem is,
it still fits.

Definite maybe

Out of the blue you decided to tell me that you are debating dating me again.

Debating.  Meaning still undecided.  A definite maybe.

I listened to you with an open mind.
Trying to understand words that made no sense.

You think you may want to date me again, but still want to date other people as well.
But you don't want to have sex with any of us.

Well, you do, but you aren't going to.
Because you are looking for a serious relationship now.

And those other girls... the ones at the beginning that you were just having sex with... they were what you needed at the time.  But after awhile they left you feeling empty.

Now you want more.

Because you understand now that in order to form a relationship with someone you have to date them first.  Get to know the girl before you have sex with her.

Because sex changes everything. You see their flaws faster.

So you are debating dating me again.
Because you want what you had with me.
But not sure if you want it with me if you can find it with someone else.

You've been tossing the idea around for a few weeks.  You are still undecided.

You say to me....  "You are a great person.  And after five minutes together it would be like old times.  Because we really got along well.  And not everybody is perfect.  I'm learning there is always something about someone that you don't like"

And when you were done being open and honest,
more than you have ever been,
which threw me for a loop,
I said nothing.

I mean really, what was there to say?

You weren't saying anything worth responding to.

You weren't telling me you realized you had made a mistake and wanted me back.
You weren't making me an offer.
You weren't even considering my feelings at all.

Once again, this was all about you.

So I told you... stop debating.
Because nothing you said is even worth a debate.

Losing everything

He was everything to me.

My day always started with a smile because of him.
He made me feel so special.
So loved.

When I came home from the mall, he always wanted to see what I bought.
When I was going out, he always had me do a fashion show for him.
He always picked the perfect shoes.
He always told me how "purty" I was.

He opened my doors for me and always picked up the tab.
He treated me like the princess he said I was.

He was always ready to dance with me.

He never missed or forgot my birthday or Valentine's Day.
He always let me know how special I was.

He was so proud of me and loved telling everyone how great I was.
He beamed with pride that I was his.
He loved escorting me into a room on his arm.
He never let me forget that I was perfect the way I was.

He would have crawled over glass to make me smile.

He was the greatest love of my life.

Then he died.

My dad, the man who was everything to me was gone.

And I've had no choice but to accept that fact and move forward.

Which made me realize...
if I can get over the loss of the most amazing man in my world,
losing you...
really isn't losing anything at all.

If I had written his goodbye

Dearest one,

It’s time to say goodbye.

I think you and I know that if I had wanted you to be in my future, I would have at least tried to work it out with you.  I just didn't want to.  It really is as simple as that.

I’m sorry for crushing your dreams, but I have my own dreams that I must fulfill.

I wish I could say I’m sorry and it mean enough to ease your pain.

I wish I could give you all the answers to set you free.

But I’d rather some things be left unsaid. Unheard. Unexplained.

I know I've hurt you and although I feel some guilt, it’s what I needed to do to get what I wanted in my life.

I know I broke my promises to you.  Promises that you believed so strongly in.

I know I've lied to you.

I know those lies cheated you out of dreams you had for both of us. But, if we continue to talk, I will continue to lie, which will continue to hurt and confuse you.

I do believe I loved you so much once.  But that was too long ago for me to remember now. 
I realize that it’s not for you.
I can see that you are trying to survive what I have done.  But even that doesn't change my mind.

I did what I had to do to get over you, including changing who you are in my mind.  I’m comfortable holding on to those versions of you, because it makes it easy for me to walk away and get what I want.

It’s not that I don’t care for you.  It’s that I don’t want to love you again.  I don’t want to give us a second chance.

 I want a different kind of life.  One that doesn't involve you, and your juvenile Disney Susie sunshine ways.

So please run along now before I destroy all your good memories of me. 
You and I both know I am always going to get what I want even if it’s at your expense.  I've proven that. 
I destroyed our marriage over that.  Don’t let me destroy anything else. 
This will never end well for you.  It will end well for me. 

Let go.

I’m not your little prince.  You can’t fix this.  Lord knows you've tried. 

I don’t want to be the one who takes care of you. 
I don’t want you to be the one who grows old with me.
I did the one thing to you that you said you didn't believe in.
I divorced you. 

What more do you really need me to do to tell you it’s over and you need to leave.

I hope someday you do find someone who thinks you are super fabulous and appreciates you for all that you are.

That person just isn't me.

When did you fall out of love?

You can't choose who you fall in love with.

It starts out as some kind of attraction, friendship, similar interest...
and then... it grows on it's own, in spite of yourself, effortlessly.
You come to enjoy and care for this person who was once unknown to you.

But falling out of love?  That takes work, time and dedication.
It requires meticulously chipping away at someone,
day after day, year after year,
rather than remembering and embracing what you loved about them.
Punishing them for things they may not be aware of, only to justify your feelings of dislike.

Do you know how hard it is to stay angry at someone?
The kind of energy it takes to fuel that kind of negative energy?
That takes true devotion.

There is nothing effortless about falling out of love.

So when did you fall out of love?

Is it when I became your friend and not your passion?

Or is it when love became a security and not an abandonment?

Is it when you looked at me and saw the same ol' same ol' instead of the excitement of the unknown?

Or is it when hanging out with me became more of a habit than a choice?

Is it when what use to seem like a huge room started to feel like a jewelry box?

Or when your wall of anger kept you focused on hating me?

Is it when the truth hurt and the lies became flattering?

Or is it when I stopped caressing your ego or when your ego stopped caressing me?

Is it when you started telling me lies?

Or is it when you decided you just didn't want to live the lies anymore?

Actually, I guess it doesn't really matter.

The irony is, you are the one who fell out of love,
but you blamed it on me.

It's a weird thing divorce

It's a weird thing divorce.  We were together for ten years.

We fell in love, we shared the same bed, the same dreams... or so I thought.
There was a time we knew each other better than anyone else in the world.
And now?
I don't even know where you were last night.  Or with who.

But in my heart I see my husband on our wedding day. 
I see him at the end of the aisle with tears in his eyes.
And I see him standing beside me alone in the reception room.

I want to ask him how we got from dancing at our own wedding to standing three feet apart from each other complete strangers.
Would he be able to give me the answers I seek?

Marriage comes in phases.  Some good, some not so good.
But you work through things and you grow and you change and you stick by the decisions that you made.  That is your duty as husband and wife.
“knowing that the true magic of love is not to avoid changes, but to navigate them successfully.”

You read those vows with me.
When you felt like things were going bad, it was your obligation as my husband, my partner, my best friend, to tell me so we could work it out.
But you didn't.

Somewhere along the way our marriage stopped being about us.
Me and you and the life we wanted to have got lost.
Or maybe it was just the life I wanted to have.
Because I realize now, the life you wanted to have, didn't include me.
Did it ever?

I cared about your well-being more than I did my own.
I was willing to break my own heart before causing even the smallest hairline fracture in yours.
That was my biggest mistake.
Letting you think you were more important than me.  More important than us.

I want you to understand and take responsibility for what you have done.  I need you to be sorry.
But to feel sorry you have to feel remorse.
It hurts me to know you have no remorse.

What did I do to you to deserve what you did to me?

You have broken my heart.
You have ripped apart my dreams.
You have robbed me of the belief of marriage.

You think time heals all wounds and with enough of it we will be friends.
Time softens pain, but it doesn't erase it. 

I will forgive you but I will never forget what you did.
Of all the people who hurt me, you are the cruelest of all.

I wear my heart on my sleeve.  I love this about me.

Knowing that the people I care about never doubt what I feel about them.
Knowing they go to sleep secure in the knowledge that they are loved.

I just wanted someone to share special moments with.
Someone who loved me as much as I loved them.
I stuck through all your BS hoping we would get back to that.

But that was never your intention.

Sometimes you can’t see the joyful part of your life until it’s gone.
Sometimes it takes a huge loss to remind you about  what you cared about the most.

And sometimes you realize you married someone who could care less.

Empty Home

You are almost completely out of the house now.
Our first house together.
The house you moved into when we divorced.

You've bought a new home.
You gutted it, remodeled it and furnished it
all on your own.

For someone else to enjoy.

Since we still own our first house, together,
I've been showing it to potential renters, while you were in the process of moving out.

With the boxes
and the kick knacks
and your random items everywhere.

And it hasn't bothered me to do so.

Until today.

When I fell to my knees, in this empty house.
Our empty house.
That smells only of you.

And I cried.
No, I bawled.
No, I wailed out sobs and tears and primal noises
that echoed off the walls and through the empty rooms back to me.

So I was surrounded by my bellowing grief
your lingering ghost of a scent
and unfulfilled could've been's and tormented what if's.

This was our first home.

This is where I believed I was safe and loved.
This is where my dreams of happy ever after began.

This is where I cooked my first Thanksgiving as a wife.  For you and my dad.
The two men who meant the world to me. The two men who are no longer in my life.

And neither one of you are coming back.

Things I can't unhear

What people need to learn is that you can't unhear something once it is said.

These are some things he said to me that continue to rattle around in my head....

"I always knew I'd end up divorced"
Really?  That might have been nice to hear BEFORE we got married.  Around the time that I told you I didn't believe in divorce.

"I felt 70% of our marriage was bad"
Ouch. Since we never argued, enjoyed each others company, and got along great, I stupidly thought we were 70% good.

"All my friends hate their ex wives and have nothing nice to say about them.  I want you to know I don't feel that way and I have nothing bad to say about you."
Lucky me. Doesn't change the fact you still divorced me.

"I want to be married again someday, just not to you."
Wow.  Because with the next person you will actually try to make it work?
Or because they will be so perfect you won't need to.

"I'm proud that I can say I never cheated on you."
Clearly that must have been a huge accomplishment for you.
And you may not have physically cheated on me, but you cheated me out of so much.

"Were we really a family if we didn't have kids?"
Color me stupid for thinking we were. So if I wasn't family, was I just a maid with benefits?

"I want to be friends"
How's the old saying go?  With friends like you....

"I do."
Yeah.  That's the one that haunts me the most.

True Colors

My dad is dying at home before my eyes.
It's sad and excruciatingly painful for mom and me his only caretakers.

Dad is dying knowing the man he gave my hand in marriage abandoned me.
The man who said he would be there for better or for worse.
Does it get worse than losing your husband and father at the same time?

Dad will never meet the next man in my life.  The next man will never know my dad.
I hate you for that.

I hate you for denying me a mate to hold me in bed at night and dry my tears during this heart wrenching time.

When dad found out he was dying he said "Who's going to take care of you?"
I said "You are dad.  From up above where you'll have the strength again to watch over me."
He smiled at that.

Dad was told the cancer had returned three months after you divorced me.
He was told he was terminal a month later.

You visited one time at the beginning.  I realize now it was because you wanted to say your goodbyes.

In the following six months you've never even offered to help.
Even strangers have offered.
People I didn't share my heart, my soul, my body with.

Your true colors are shinning through.

Do I miss you?

Do I miss you?

Don't flatter yourself.

I'm too busy filling every  minute of the day,

Oh.

Those endless days.

That slowly,
like sands
in the
hourglass,
pile into
weeks,
months,
a year....

to think...
about you.

Letter to his parents

Sent to his parents on 8/11/11

I was in your son's life for 10 years.  I was his wife for 7.

I have stood by his side during all of the ups and downs, through the good and the bad. I supported every decision he made even if I disagreed with it. I have stayed true and loyal to him.   I embraced his family as my own and would have fought any battle for him or any of you.  I was a good, loving and supportive wife.

Your son is leaving a women who loved him very much, would have done anything for him and always had his best interest at heart.

 I kept our wedding vows close to my heart.  I thought nothing was so bad that you couldn't work through it.  It never occurred to me that someone else could decide they just didn't want to work through it and give up.  To me marriage meant forever.  To him it meant something else.

I did not want this. He wanted it.  I had no choice.  He did not give me a choice.

I fought for our marriage.  He did not.  And I am heartbroken.

He asked my father's permission for my hand in marriage.  To have and to hold till death do us part.
He did not ask my father's permission for this. This was a choice he made all on his own.

I waited for someone in his family to tell him...this is not the right thing to do.  You made a commitment and you are supposed to honor it.  You are supposed to give it your absolute best shot. Marriage is not a thing you just throw away without a good reason.  Marriage is worth fighting for.  She is worth fighting for.

But those words never came.

When he took me to the courthouse to file for the papers, I openly wept in public. The tears just wouldn't stop.  My hand shook as I signed the papers he put in front of me. He calmly held the paper still for me so it could be signed. I felt as if my heart was being ripped out of me.  Back in the car I couldn't breathe and at a stop light had to get out and walk.  He showed no emotion.

Ever since I was a little girl, being married was the most important thing in my life.  He knew that.  He knew how long I had waited for the right person.  He knew how much creating a healthy family environment meant to me. He knew how seriously I took marriage and how I never wanted to be divorced.  And yet now he is placing that title on me for the rest of my life.  For reasons he still has yet to explain to me.

Through all of this I have held my chin up.  I have stayed true to myself and have not let my feelings of confusion and anger overwhelm me to the point where it would get bad between him and I.  But today I no longer have to hold back my feelings.

Today...when I have to stand before a judge I will lie and say this is a mutual agreement.  But it is not. And I will hate him for making me do it.  For taking away from me something that I held so dear.

I am hurt.  I am angry.  I am crushed. I feel like a small insignificant disposable piece of trash being thrown out.

I am not o.k.

I thought you should know.

She is me when we were we

There is somebody new.
You are a we again, just not with me.

I can't stop thinking of her.


She's the one who gets to hear all the details about your day.
Which is more than what I know.

Her and I share a memory of a first kiss from you.
You who was suppose to be my last kiss.


I can't be upset with her. She met you fair and square.  She wasn't the reason you left me.
No. You didn't leave me for someone else.
You left me for the idea of someone else. Which hurts so much more.

I think about how excited people get when they first start dating.
I hate that you are feeling this about someone other than me.
Planning things to do with her.  Dressing up for her.  How you hate dressing up.
But you'll do what you have to do to get her.
You'll make sure your feathers are up, spread out and on display.

And then she'll get the same old t-shirts and shorts that you love.  The ones with the holes and stains.
The only clothes you never complained about wearing.  Of this, I am sure.

I keep thinking about how much you duped me into believing you were a fun and adventurous guy.
And maybe you are?  You just didn't want to be with me?
So you shot down all my ideas for going out and doing things.  You wanted to stay home and play games on the computer. For hours.

But now you are a social butterfly.  Now you enjoy going out.  With her.

She's getting the guy I fell for.  The guy I haven't seen in years.
And she gets him without having to cook, clean, manage the properties, take care of an ill parent, run a business, and try to figure out why you are angry all the time.
She gets the new you.
The one who isn't cranky about your job because now you barely work.

And when you grow closer to her, you'll want to protect her.  You'll feel sad when she's sad.  You'll want to cheer her up.  You will want to take care of her.  You'll want to make her smile.

She is me when we were we.

Once you were so sure it was me you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.
Now you are so sure that you want to start something new with someone else.

Someone new.

I don't want to be a we with someone new.
I don't want to go out and start again.
My scars are still bleeding a bit.

How do you do it?  How did you make the bleeding stop?

How Did I Lose You?

How did I lose you?

I'm slowly starting to throw things out.

Things that held so much meaning once.  Now have no meaning at all.
Tokens of our trips together.  Trinkets from concerts, theater shows, restaurants, hotels.
Cards with words from a man I no longer know.
Someone I loved so very much in a life I no longer live.

Reminders of things I never wanted to forget, are now too painful to remember.

Objects that paint a picture of a life that is gone.
That doesn't even feel real anymore.
Even though they are tangible items, they hold no weight.

How did I lose you?

How did we go from laughing while we fed each other cake to this?
I remove the photos from our special day, out of their special book, and put them in a plain envelope.
They no longer look like us because there is no us.

Do you know how hard it is to fall out of love with someone?

You can't just stop caring for a person who held a place in your heart.  
Well, I can't.
It's a slow, painful process that involves going through closets and drawers and boxes and shedding memories, hopes and dreams.

Wasn't it bad enough that you broke my heart that now I have to finish the job by shattering it?
Analyzing every photo for some kind of answer.

How did I lose you?

Getting rid of these mementos is like losing you all over again.

In Sickness And In Health

I'm sick.

This is the first time I've been under the weather since the divorce.
It is so rare that I get a cold.  When I do, it's almost always stress induced and goes away in a day.
This bug is not going away.

It sucks.

There is nobody to rub my tummy, apply cool cloths to my head and baby me.

I so desperately need to be babied.  Doesn't everyone deserve that when they are sick?

I have placed a bowl of cold water on my bed to dunk my cloth in when it gets warm from the fever.
I have set an alarm to go off every four hours to remind me to take tylenol to keep the fever down.
I have bottled waters lined up on my nightstand to make sure I am keeping hydrated.

I am taking care of me.
But I wish someone else was.

He'd caress my hair while I was snuggled up to him and murmur pobrecito in my ear.
He use to make me miso soup from scratch and tell me I wasn't dying.
He'd say in his best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice..."It is not a tumor"

I feel like I am dying.

To get over someone, get under someone else

So it seems that several of my friends think that what I need is to get fucked.

They think I need to find a good looking random stranger and work out my problems on his body.

But what I can't get them to understand is that I already had that.

I've been fucked by a stranger for the past six years.  

It has left me empty, self conscious, vulnerable and questioning everything I once knew.  

That last thing I want now is another stranger entering me only to take another part of me away.

All Cried Out

I have cried everyday for 8 months.  Everywhere. At any given time
Some days more than others.  But everyday none the less.

Walking down the aisle at the grocery store is always a minefield.

He was my family.  He was my home. He was my safe place.

He took everything away.
And never looked back.  Never looked back.

He left me drifting.  Lost and alone on my sea of tears.

I've gone to therapy, talked with counselors, chatted with a priest and called my friends at all hours of the night.
I've done yoga, gone paddle boarding, power walked and eaten entire bags of peanut MnM's, multiple times.
I've meditated, gotten massages and have been hypnotized.
I've taken sleeping, anxiety and happy pills.
I've read books on divorce, lost love, self help, survival stories and grief.
I've watched hours of movies, TV shows and online mind mushing crap.
I've cleaned, reorganized, and purged the refrigerator, my closet and the bathroom.
I'm screamed into pillows, sang sad love songs and danced till I couldn't breathe.
I've blogged.

He's gone out on dates with multiple women.

Then today, I wanted to cry but no tears came.
I felt like I was going to cry... the emotion was there like a blanket all around me..but my eyes remained dry.

Was it possible I was all cried out?

A few hours later, cleaning off my desk, at the bottom of a stack of papers I had set aside a year ago, I came across a random photo of him.

And.... then they reappeared.
Hello old friends.
I thought you too had abandoned me.

Toe Cramp

I got a toe cramp today in the home depot parking lot.

It took me back to the only other time I've had one.
I'd just pulled up to our house when it happened.  I'd never felt that kind of pain in my toe and since it came on so quickly I got a bit scared.  It felt like my toe was bending up towards me, clearly the opposite direction  it was suppose to be, all on it's own and I couldn't stop it.

Luckily you were home, so I called you from the car and asked you to help me as I couldn't walk on it.

You came out and carried me into the office and laid me gently on the broken leather couch that you had fallen in love with from the clearance section of the furniture store.

I was a little panicked that I had somehow broken my toe.
You tried to assure me that was not the case.
I still wasn't sure.

You gingerly tried to massage it, but the pain was so intense.  Against my protests you carefully kneaded, stretched, prodded and rubbed it.

So patiently you babied my toe and me until both of us were back to normal.
Then you kissed my toe and me.  My night in shining armor.

We started to make jokes and laugh about the whole thing and how I would've been stuck in the car if you hadn't picked up the phone. We created all kinds of humorous scenarios.
We laid there on that couch, side by side, for a long time giggling.

But this time I can't call you.
This time I have to take care of it on my own.

Just like everything else.

Of course I can do it on my own.  I just liked it better when you did it for me.

I did laugh, through the tears, at the thought of me kissing my own foot.  That's progress, right?

God I miss you.

A Good Wife

I loved being a wife.

Loved it.

I loved cooking, grocery shopping, doing laundry and keeping a clean house.
O.k.  I did NOT like dusting.

Taking care of someone, to me, is like taking care of yourself.
It made me so happy.

I was honest, loyal, caring and supportive.
I made sure that you kept your bank account and I kept mine with a joint one for bills.
I didn't want us arguing about money.  And we never did.

I prided myself for never being out of anything. From toilet paper to milk in the fridge, we were always well stocked. Your clothes were always clean and put away.  Hung the way you liked.

If you lost something I knew exactly where to find it.

I didn't make you go to baby showers with me.  I treated you like a man. I encouraged you to go golfing and fishing with your friends.  Sometimes I would set up the play dates myself for you.

When people would meet me for the first time they would say "THAT'S your wife?"
Frumpy, boring and plain were never used to describe me.

I was spontaneous, adventurous and funny.
I always tried to keep our marriage fresh and interesting.

I packed your favorite snacks when we went to the movies.
I packed your lunches for work. Always with a sweet treat tucked inside.

I gave the best hugs.

Was I perfect?  No.  Is anybody?
Would it have mattered if I was?

I was a good wife.
I am not a wife anymore.

Love Don't Live Here Anymore

Two weeks and one day after the divorce he found someone online and started dating.
Two weeks and one day?
He said he was lonely.
I couldn't breathe.

Everything started to spiral out of control again.

Then the truth came out.

It wasn't work that you hated.
It was me.
You had been mad at me for 6 out of the 7 years we were married.

You gave your reasons for being so enraged with me.  I just sat there with my mouth open.
What do you mean that 6 out of 7 years you harbored ill feelings towards me?
Starting out small and letting it fester to the point that anger dominated all emotions you had for me.
But never telling me.  Letting me believe it was all work related.

You knew 6 years ago that you wanted out?

And yet you stayed, waiting for what?
Laying next to me each night holding my hand.
Watching me spin in circles trying to make you happy.  So we could be happy.
Sacrificing my own happiness for yours.
Believing you when you said it wasn't me.

I had no reason to doubt you.  And even when I questioned it you assured me I was incorrect.

And now you tell me you single-handedly sabotaged our relationship?
That you purposely didn't tell me what was going on because you didn't want me to fix it?
Is that why you didn't want to try, because you knew all along you were going to divorce me?

So all of it was a lie?
How am I suppose to swallow that?
You have already taken away so much from me and now you've taken my memories too?

It is so hard to believe that love don't live here anymore...
and apparently hasn't for a very long time.

The Day After

I didn't have any dreams.  I woke up fine...at first..then crying a minute later.

Yesterday I was your wife.  The day after, I was someone you use to be married to.
Someone you use to know.

I prepared food the night before knowing I wouldn't be able to function.  I skip my meals anyways.

I keep myself busy every minute.  I make lists of simple mindless tasks to do.  Organize my closet. Put photos in an album.  Stupid things that I've always wanted to do but never had the time.

Today all I have is time.  It seems endless.

The silence in the house has never been so loud.

I remind myself to eat.  I cry when I remember there is no one else to do so.

I watch movies all day and cry. There is a funny part that I know you will love.
I immediately pick up the phone to call you.  Then I put the phone down and cry.

Even if I make it through this day...will anything be different tomorrow?  

I am not a wife anymore.  I liked being a wife.  It meant someone loved me enough to pick me.
Being divorced means I wasn't loved enough.

Everyone says how hard divorce is.  But they never say how HARD divorce is.
You simply can not understand it until you have gone through it.

After we divorced the true pain began.

Becoming A Statistic

We didn't argue.  We liked the same food, movies and songs.  We loved singing "Sweet Child O' Mine" at the tops of our lungs. We loved to travel.  We loved books on tapes on long trips. We loved our dog. We had our own secret jokes.  Doesn't everyone?  

We saw other couples who were miserable, not even nice to each other and we said we were so lucky we weren't like that.  We still said our please and thank you's.

He was unhappy.  Of course I could see that.  But he said it was work.  He hated working.  

"Are you sure it's just work?  You seem mad at me, distant."

"No.  I just hate work."  And then he would hug me.

I tried hard to make things easy for him. Yet nothing was ever right.  But he assured me everything was fine.  He just had to figure the work thing out.  I believed him.  Why wouldn't I?  He had never lied to me.

So, at the height of success, he sold the business he had convinced me he wanted.  He went to work for someone else. And hated it.  Then he left there and did temporary work.  And hated it.  I stood by him during all of these changes hoping he would find his happiness.  I didn't push him, or nag him, or demand anything of him.  I just let him go his own way, supporting his every erratic decision.

After all, I wanted him to be happy.  You only get one life and you should be happy in it.

Five years of mood swings.  It was like walking on eggshells. Me always waiting for him to find his peace so we could have some real fun. So we could enjoy each other the way we did when there was less stress in our lives.

Until one day.... "I don't want to do this anymore."  The words came out of my mouth.  I was tired of him being miserable. I wanted us to fix it together.

I asked him to go to therapy together.  He didn't want to.

I asked him to try a separation.  He didn't want to.

He wanted to sell everything and sail to the Bahamas by himself for four months.  He wanted to find peace on his own.

He wanted a divorce.

That was his solution?  It was not mine.

After 10 years together, seven of them married, it had come down to this. 

Wasn't any of it worth fighting for?  Wasn't any of it worth trying to save?

Apparently not to him.  To him there was no answer other than divorce.

You can't make someone stay when they don't want to.  What choice did I have?

So we divorced.  

And our marriage became a statistic.

Once Upon A Time

Most girls dream of their wedding.    I dreamed of being married.

I loved the idea of finding someone to share my life with.  Not someone to be my life, but someone to share my life.  I wanted him to have his own hobbies and friends outside of “us” so that I’d have time to miss him and so we’d always have new stuff to discuss over meals.

I dreamed of growing old with my best friend.  Of sharing a lifetime of memories to carry into our senior years.  Of having that one constant person in your life through the good and the bad who always had your back.  Someone to weather the storms of life and celebrate the joys.

I loved the idea, albeit old fashioned, of taking care of someone.  I liked grocery shopping, cooking, and doing the laundry.

I knew exactly what marriage meant to me and was very upfront about it from the moment the possibility of getting married arose.

I believed that your mate becomes your family.  And you don’t just leave your family when things get rough as so many people do.

I did not believe in divorce.  I made that very clear.

I explained how marriage was hard.  That there would be times when we would hate each other and question why were with each other.  But I also believed you could work through anything.  All you had to do was be willing to try.

It never dawned on me that someone would just not be willing to try.