the long goodbye

A little under two weeks ago, I told my husband that I wanted a divorce. Our marriage has been fading for months and months but he has taken it as a sudden and cruel decision. I understand and also know that he hasn’t been listening to me for a long time. Perhaps he didn’t want to hear me or perhaps he didn’t think I was serious. Either way, my life feels impossible right now.

It feels impossible to untangle myself from ten years worth of security and identity.

I know I must end my marriage, I am sure of this. But this is the only thing I am sure of. There are many moments when my rose colored glasses fall over my eyes and I forget why I am putting myself through this. Is it really that bad? I ask myself a hundred times¬† a day. Do you think you’re being a little too sensitive or ridiculous?¬†

I wish I could skip to the part months or years from now when this decision, this inner knowing, makes sense. I want to skip to the part where I have found the life I am searching for and he has found the life that’s right for him. I want the part where we can rekindle a friendship and mutual respect for one another.

Alas, it is not to be. The only way is through. Through the tears and loneliness and isolation. Through the hurtful phone conversations and raw memories and family heartbreak. Through the relentless free-fall of a lost identity.

I only wish I could catch a glimpse of what awaits me on the other side of goodbye.

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