It was nice of you to leave your suitcases directly in my walkway as I came to pick up our son. I see the airline tags were removed. Guess what? I truly do not care where you went or what you did. Hope you enjoyed your vacation. I enjoyed a week without dealing with you. Light and love, your ex.
It’s been almost 15 months since he announced our marriage was over, one year since I filed and just over nine months that it was finalized. Since then, I have moved into an apartment with our son, built a house, moved out of the apartment and am six weeks into setting up our lovely new home.
Yes, of course it’s nice to have a brand new space. What’s even better, however, is the light and love that fills it. I no longer feel like I’m walking into a dark, depressive environment. Funny, I felt that with both homes we shared. I didn’t feel that when I moved to the apartment. There is no sense of impending doom. There are no eggshells scattered on the floor to avoid. I don’t have to gauge the environment and adapt my behavior to keep the peace. Or not, which is what started a lot of the “problems” in our relationship. I quit trying and just got belligerent. Acted how I wanted. Didn’t care.
I was sick of being miserable. I was sick of living with a shell of a human who liked engaging with his online buddies more then me and even our son. He was supposed to see the error of his ways, and be the man I once knew. Unfortunately it was easier to cast blame and find something new and exciting than to admit any fault. It’s easier to run and cry to someone else instead of turning inward. I know this. I was the girlfriend after his first divorce. In some way that made it easier. I knew he’d never look back and I didn’t waste much time trying after his announcement.
We spent almost 20 years together and raised three children, two from his previous marriage. Our son is 14. I would be lying if I said I had no guilt over what this did to him. It’s been hell. With that said, had I just said “Yes, dear” in our marriage, we wouldn’t be divorced. There is no doubt that I could handled my issues with him differently. There came a point that I could no longer allow myself to raise my son in that toxic environment. That was my choice. He now suffers the aftermath of my decision and his father’s reaction.
Part of that “aftermath” is seeing a mom who rarely drinks, smiles a lot, has friends over for no apparent reason, and who sings/dances in the kitchen while attempting to cook. He sees me happy. He sees me whole. He has a clean, well-kept home, filled with light and love. He still smiles and hugs me. I think we are both healing.
It’s not that you didn’t understand me. It’s that you never tried. You never thought it was important.
crazytiredmom 