My Very Bad No Good Horrible Week

It didn’t begin that way, but by Tuesday evening things had started to turn.  Wednesday night I had a date with my husband at the house.  It was our first sit down talk about divorce.  Yes, it’s definitely happening and here’s how discussion.  Lovely.  The actual time spent with him was okay.  It was really nice to see him and talk and I cried, but it was civilized, and he wasn’t trying to be an ass, he just is.  Tried to get him to articulate a little more on the reasons.  Really?  I asked.  You’re doing this to ride your bike and play your guitar more?  And he responded that he was also excited about an idea for starting his own company one day and how that would take sacrifice.  Just call me sacrificial lamb.  You do realize people start businesses all the time and don’t leave their spouses right?  Very fortunate for him our state is a no fault divorce state.

Thursday, while inserting my menstrual cup (what? too much information?) I discovered a small hard lump on my cervix.  Wonderful.

Friday I got a text from dark horse asking if I was available to talk.  Great.  Managed to avoid it till Sunday when boyfriend broke up with me.  He thinks I’m great, but he’s got shit to sort out.  Yeah, me too.  Still, it was the healthiest break up I’ve ever experienced, and the most grown-up, well-considered, growing relationship.  No regrets.

This week has me sorting at least some of my shit out, with a doctor’s appointment and a visit to my attorney.

Can anyone top that?


Falling Apart at Finalizations

I seem to be able to sail through those most dreaded of occasions somewhat unscathed, move out day, major holidays, anniversaries, etc, but I find myself unprepared for certain moments when they come.  Moments I knew someday I may have to deal with, but I hadn’t thought just how I was going to do it yet and was hoping against hope that I wouldn’t have to, and it was too much to think about.  Husband and I are for the most part incommunicado, and have been since I got my own wheels.  Which is puzzlingly and hurtful, but perhaps it was the best thing in terms of the healing process.  I stopped reaching out because the response was a cold distant one and it was more painful to be rejected like that again and again than just to say okay, you want to be alone, I will leave you to it.  We email when something is needed, like when I needed someone to watch the dog and cat when I went out of town, and he has been very accommodating, happy to do it.  Dropped them off and it was a tearful exchange but I noticed he was still wearing his wedding ring.  I picked them up, we actually talked over coffee and caught up, but then he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring.  This was a huge indicator to me about the his state of mind, just what I can’t tell you, but it made me feel good to see it still on his finger.  Like he couldn’t take it off just yet, hadn’t decided.  So when he did, it hit me with the full realization that he was done.  Finished.  Fin.  Days passed and it felt like I was in that beginning pain all over again.  Which is stupid.  On the advice of my support group, I stopped wearing my ring when he moved out.  I have been dating.  I shouldn’t be reacting this way.  Floods of tears.  Phone a friend.  Loud ugly fall apart crying.   I began thinking about all the ways I could’ve reached out, emails, phone calls, texts, letters.  I didn’t even say anything over our anniversary.  Neither did he, but nevermind.  Should I have?  Would it have altered his course trajectory in any way?  Could I have done something more?  Did I try hard enough?  And after talking to friends, I did start to think along the lines of

1)  He knew exactly how I felt, that I didn’t want this, would have done anything

2)  He did it anyway, left me crying hysterically on the floor and walked away, turned his back to me time and time again when I was crying and pleading

Just coming to terms with this when I receive a text from husband asking if I’m available the next day.  Asked me to breakfast or coffee.  Which only meant one thing.  He has made his unalterable decision in his time and he is ready to proceed.  Sent me into another crying jag, this one so bad I gave myself a headache, which then made me vomit.  I called him and told him I was free, but I didn’t think I could compose myself in time for work and so asked to reschedule.  He said he would look at his calendar and hoped I had a good day at work.  I am scared to have this discussion and I am devastated still.  Have been meaning to write about the ring removal for sometime, but was trying to find the funny ha ha spin.  I can’t.  There is no funny to be found here just now.  Perhaps in the future I can look back and say, hey, remember when he finally took his ring off and it made you cry so hard you puked?  Ah, good times.  But for now, it’s just sad.