So often we think of goodbye in a negative light, but I've come to believe that just maybe it's not so bad after all. Goodbye doesn't have to be such a finality. It's the start of something new and fresh. If we never had an ending, we'd never have the chance at something better.
The day I realized divorce was inevitably on the horizon, I swore it would make me better not bitter. I went through the 7 states of grief, sometimes one at a time and sometimes all at once. Divorce is much like death. You have to grieve that loss. In my case, my ex had done his grieving silently and kept it very well hidden. By the time he gathered the courage to tell me he didn't love me, that was the final grain of sand. At that point he'd been through every scenario in his head, and he was finally over it. He walked into that hospital room and did what he had to do. On the flip side, that's where my grieving began. I was frozen. I couldn't believe what he was saying, and I wouldn't let my mind wander far enough away to see the direction it was going. Classic shock and denial. I clung to our newborn son, and refused to believe it.
After a few hours and one hell of a persuasive argument with a nurse to allow me to leave with this man, because he had my other two children, the aching began. The heart in my chest became a knot that was pumping toxic sludge through my very being. I sat through a dinner surrounded by a family that were elated to meet the newest addition to our family and celebrate my birthday. There was no celebration within me. I remember staring at every picture within the room. Memories raced through my being and flooded my mind. It began to sink in that I would never spend another birthday with these people. Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners would never be the same, and this family would soon no longer be mine. It was at that moment I could no longer hold myself together. The pain was overwhelming, excruciating, and I had hit stage 2.
The pain of this stage was accompanied by immense amounts of guilt and self reflection. "If I'd only done this, had I only been that..." My body couldn't rest, because the mind was soaring through the possible reasons, because he hadn't given me a single one. He just wasn't happy. Well that wasn't a reason to me, and it was my mission in life to discover why. Why wasn't he happy? Was it another woman? Was it money? The kids? What was it? !! With each passing day, he begged forgiveness and the ability to just forget it ever happened. That wasn't possible for me. I needed a clear understanding, actual reasons to make sense of what was going on, and the more I didn't get those, the more anger began to set in. Welcome to stage 3.
The only person I had shared what happened with by this time was my sister. I was ashamed to think that I was such a horrible wife that my husband could walk into my hospital room, new born baby in arms and tell me on my birthday that he didn't love me anymore. I didn't want to admit that they were right all along, for they had questioned our marriage and relationship for years, while I defended it with every fiber of my being. I felt like a fool.
Every morning he would leave for work, and I would stay home with 2 adorable babies that didn't understand why mommy was so sad, and a newby that didn't notice at all. I became more resentful with each passing night that I was the only one getting up to feed the baby and the only one taking care of everyone throughout the day. Even though I didn't want him to touch our son, it pissed me off that he wouldn't try. I couldn't stand the site of him anymore, so I'd moved to the nursery, but he moved with me. Suddenly I trapped. I was being held hostage in my own home. I couldn't find the space to think, let alone the air to breathe. I attempted to hold it together, but I melted down every afternoon and the rage turned to pure hatred. I still loved that man, but I hated what he'd done. I got nauseous every time I looked at him, and the thought of him touching me just made me cringe.
Five long weeks I muddled through, trying to get a grip on the life that was slipping from my grasp faster than I could understand why. I begged him to talk about it. I pled for counseling, some sort of help, any help, but I was unsuccessful. It was becoming more clear by the day that there was a reason, and he wasn't sharing it with me. He was hiding something. Not only did this make the pain more unbearable, but it fueled the fury within me that much more.
I had already planned to visit my family in Texas for a week, and decided that this was the only escape I would find. I don't have family here, so I had nowhere else to go. I phoned my dad to ask if I could stay with them, with no fixed leave date, and joking has asked "what? did he kick you out?" He didn't realize then, nor have I ever shared, that those words are what sparked stage 4. The pain became depression, and I began to sink lower with every acknowledgment that the life as I had known was over. No matter if we could manage to turn it around and fix it or not, it would never be the same. I have long known that you can forgive, but you can never forget. I would never be able to unhear the words "I don't love you anymore." Those words would ring in my ears for months to come. And so, after the first big blow out fight, I packed our belongings, loaded 3 tiny humans in the car, and prepared for departure. His mother realized what was happening as we were loading the last bag into the car. She knew that was too much luggage for a week, and I had never travelled with toys.
Between the raging fire that burned through my soul daily and the sadness I couldn't seem to shake, I was a wreck for months. I continued to wait for an answer as to why this was happening, all while preparing myself for the worst. I'd taken my first job after being a stay at home mom for 8 years, and began to stash money away for the inevitable. I cried myself to sleep so many nights. My children suffered deeply as well. My ex had 5 children at this point, and I was certain he would only ever know 2. I knew that if I stayed gone for too long, he would fade out of the picture. He was already in the process. He rarely called. Getting a response from a text required some very strong words and a guilt trip, and visiting us was out of the question. I left September 18th, and did not see him again until the end of October, after brow beating him into meeting us half way. He wouldn't see the kids again until Christmas. I couldn't understand how that was ok. That didn't make one ounce of rational sense to me. How could you just sit at home surrounded by our pictures and not miss us? The answer would come soon enough.
I had contacted a divorce attorney and mapped out a plan. The papers were drawn up, but I was waiting on my answer. I couldn't just give up on a decade of my life without some form of closure.......and then like a decadent little gift, there it was. One day of sifting through the bank account to find out why we were broke, it jumped out at me like a giant red battle flag. He purchased her flowers from our joint bank account. 10 years together, and he had never bought me flowers. I never got Christmas gifts, birthday gifts, anniversary, mother's day or any other holiday acknowledgments. I had my answer right there. He had met someone new, the only question remaining was when. I did some research and accidentally admitted I wanted a divorce, and I had my closure. I didn't see the onset of stage 5, the up swing, as it ran parallel to stage 6 of reconstruction. We worked out all the details to have a no contest divorce and prepared for the finality.
There were set backs along the way before making it to stage 7 of acceptance. The first was the day after Christmas, when less than 12 hours after picking up our children and driving them cross country for the holidays, my ex decided to slit both wrists. When I heard the news, I wasn't fully comprehending what was happening. It wasn't until hours later that it sank in, and I hit an all new level of confusion. Why would a father who hadn't seen his children in nearly 3 months attempt suicide just hours after picking up his kids? Especially considering he still had a week to spend with them. The 10 hour car ride was filled with anxiety and fear. Seeing him in the days prior wasn't very hard for me. I didn't cry. I didn't miss him. I didn't want him anymore. But now suddenly my heart was worried for him. I had taken care of this man for nearly 10 years. I had nurtured him when he was sick, and held his hand through times of pain. A part of me still loved him, and that was becoming more evident to me with every passing mile. When I laid eyes on him the next day, I was over run by emotions. I was nervous, scared, more like petrified, and yet still furious. Over the coming days, we mended a friendship that had been lost long ago. We talked about all the things we should've discussed but couldn't. I came to the brink of calling off our divorce until I realized, we broke once. If that were possible once it would happen again. I also knew the only reason, he leaned on my shoulder was, because she took hers away. That's not the relationship that I wanted, but I did want our children to have both parents. I knew our baby would never know his dad if I continued to live in Texas, and our older two missed him dearly. I went home to Texas, packed our bags, and prepared for the move home.
I moved in with my soon to be ex in laws until I could get on my feet, and I began looking for a job. Miraculously, I found an awesome career, a place to live and friends that would become my biggest support. I began to rebuild my life. I had accepted that the life I knew was over, and while I still cried- I shed many tears- I still felt rage and fury- I continued to suffer, but I was on the mend.
The road to happiness has been paved with the pain of broken hearts. I have seen the mountains and valleys, and finally I stand here today on the plateau picking up the broken peices. I don't know what the future holds, but I do not regret the goodbye. I have never written the full story of my divorce. I have only ever shared it with those close to me. The pain didn't end with the final decree, nor did the fight, but that is for another day. The end of my marriage was the beginning of a whole new life for me. I am finally able to be the person I had been hiding. I am able to live without apologies. I have a new understanding of my faith and a new outlook on life. I still believe in marriage. I still believe in love. I don't regret a day I spent in that life, as it has taught me so much. I have learned to say goodbye and look forward to the future. Goodbyes are often painful, but they open new doors. Accepting them with grace is easier now. I will embrace my dreams, wish upon stars, believe in miracles, and love with all of my heart knowing that some people will leave. Some will cause immense suffering, but some will stay. And they will be the ones worth loving.
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