Divorce - Part Two

I love my husband. I want to be clear about that. One night, my sister-in-law told me that she couldn’t understand why I let him get away with everything, and allow him to treat me so badly. I sat with her and tried my best to explain the “why” behind my love for him. It’s because deep down I know he’s a good person. I know he's a great father. I know he loves our daughter. I know that a lot of the pain and trauma he experienced growing up has a lot to do with how he handles things. How he treats and talks to people. And even with all of the negative I wrote about in part one, there was still A LOT of wonderful moments that happened this year too. We shared a lot of laughs. We celebrated birthdays. We got through a surgery, and at home physical therapy. We took a vacation in New Mexico. We spent evenings as a family playing board games and curled up on the couch watching movies. Afternoons at the park, and dinners at our favorite restaurants. There was love and intimacy. Moments where I sat back and thought, “THIS. This is what it’s all about.” We actually got along much better this year than we have in the past five years. It just wasn’t enough to dismiss everything else. I couldn’t keep making excuses for the behavior, and outburst that were clearly inexcusable.

But I will always love him. I will always want the very best for him. Even if it can’t be with me. I still plan to continue helping him out whenever I am able to because there is no hate or resentment in my heart for him. Despite how toxic we are as a couple, pushing each other’s buttons, we actually do really well with co-parenting. Having each other’s backs when our daughter starts to push her boundaries. We do really well when it comes to everything else, BUT our marriage it seems. We can joke around, and be in the same home without issue. We can talk about the past and the future without incident. However, there are things we need to work on. His temper, his anger, the way he lashes out, and his addiction issues. I’m not just talking drugs; he's currently clean and on probation. None of these are things that I can fix for him. No matter how much I wish that I could. He has to put in that work if he wants to change. And he needs to find what makes him whole, what gives him peace, and what makes him happy. I, on the other hand, need to stop being the crutch, and the fixer of everything. The one who enables his behavior. I need to stop being so controlling and learn how to fully let go of the past. I need to learn how to admit when I’m wrong too. To speak up in the moment rather than letting it fester. Ignoring all of the problems has only gotten us a toxic relationship. For so long I allowed all of the burdens to fall on me because I wanted to make things easy for him. To protect him and give him what he never had growing up: unconditional love. And that did way more harm than good. It didn’t allow him to grow or be responsible for his actions. Then there were all of the things that we left unsaid, or refused to address. The grudges that we held onto just ended up turning us into people that couldn’t get along. A broken family that was trying to force itself into something that didn’t fit anymore. And I know that my daughter deserves so much better than that. I deserve better than that. He deserves better than that.

The night before our divorce was to be finalized through the court I put our daughter to bed, and we talked. We spoke about the good memories. We talked about the reasons why our marriage had failed. Each of us taking responsibility for the areas that we were at fault for. We laid everything out. There were apologies, tears, expressed regret, smiles, and laughs. We talked about our daughter and wanting the best for her. We talked about the reasons why we never had another child. I spoke about how much love I still had for him, but that I needed him to understand why we weren't working anymore. We talked about wanting to continue being a family even if it was going to look a little different from now on. He will always be Emery's father, and I will always want him in her life. We talked about future living arrangements that would need to be made sooner rather than later. We talked about being each other’s biggest supporters, and wanting the best for each other. We both admitted that there were a lot of things that we each needed to work on individually, but we made a promise to always put our daughter’s well-being first. To get along for her sake no matter what the future held for us. We spent over an hour in conversation, and it ended with “I love you’s”. When I finally went to sleep that night I felt at peace about our situation.

On November 28th, I walked into the courtroom a ball of nerves and knots inside of my stomach. I sat there quietly as the docket was read. My lawyer explained that there would be a series of questions, and then the judge would sign off on our paperwork. When my turn came I focused solely on my lawyer as I answered what was being asked. Any chance of reconciliation? No. Was I pregnant? No. Did I understand what I was asking the court? Yes. Did we agree on the division of assets? Yes. And after five more minutes of questioning the judge re-read the decree before stamping the document. And that was it. Ten years of marriage had officially come to an end. It felt surreal and sad. I walked out of the building as quickly as I could. I was now an ex-wife. A divorcee. And I felt like throwing up on the sidewalk outside of the courthouse. But I didn’t. Instead, I went to work. I stayed positive and finished my day on a good note. I loved on my daughter, and we all sat down to watch a Hallmark movie together. We cooked dinner and talked about each of our day's. The upcoming dance and recital, that both he and I were making sure to have marked on our phone calendars. Both so excited, and proud of our little girl.  

I pushed every little emotion down until the very end of our day. Moving through the motions. After Emery was asleep and my now ex-husband was sitting in the computer room doing some work I closed myself off in the bathroom. In the shower is where I finally let myself cry. I sat down, arms wrapped around my legs, and I felt a numbness spread across my chest. Overwhelming sadness. Because even though I knew we were doing the right thing it didn’t make it any easier. Just the thought of us going our separate ways soon is enough to make me catch my breath. Living in separate houses. Having separate lives. That was a much harder pill to swallow than I thought it would be. In fact, I’m still trying to processes it. Why, you may ask? I don't think there's one single answer. Maybe it was the twelve years together? Ten of those married. Maybe it’s because I honest to God never pictured this outcome coming to fruition? I really thought we would overcome all of this. Maybe it’s because of all we’ve gone through together? The good and the bad. Or maybe it’s because no matter what he will always be the punk rock loving, emo drummer boy with the beautiful eyes and playful smirk that I fell in love with all of those years ago? The guy who swept me off of my feet, and led me away to California. Who showed me that there was something else beyond my tiny little town. Adventures, friendships, and love so intense that it hurt to be apart. And having to let him go was not something I was prepared for. I still don't feel ready. But are we ever?