Had to leave

I told him that I was done. I could not continue with the never-ending distance and the lack of plan to make things different, better. I was tired of being physically and emotionally alone. I knew I needed to make significant changes and take control of my situation. All of the desperation I was feeling could easily be blamed on someone else – he abandoned me, he isn’t trying, he holds me back. That’s the easy response, but after some of the tears dried, I realized I had to grab my life by the reins and steer it in the direction I wanted it to go. Wallowing is useless, nevermind super unattractive.

I spent 5 days in Indiana. It was the first time I had been home in almost 6 months. It was the first time I had seen him since the first week in June. It broke the longest stretch I had gone without seeing my precious dogs, and the first time I had been home since Toby unexpectedly passed away 2 weeks after my last visit. I knew what this visit was for. He suspected the same, but hoped that he was wrong. But, before I let those words come out of my mouth I needed to be one hundred percent sure. You can never take back your words, and this is not a decision you want to be wrong about. I spent the first two days being distant and awkward. I didn't even want him to touch me. I tried, but it just didn’t feel right. I no longer knew him in this way. I kept hoping that a spark would ignite, and we would fall back into our routine, our groove, our relationship.

The day after Thanksgiving, he worked, and I spent the day with a friend I hadn’t seen in a year. She helped me prepare for the inevitable. She reassured me that I had not failed and that my life would continue, likely improve. When he walked through the door, I was sitting on the couch exactly where he had left me that morning. My stare was still vacant and my excitement to be home was clearly missing. The time had come to say what I needed: this marriage was irretrievably broken. I no longer remember the exact words. I just know that I was nearly emotionless as the words tumbled out of my mouth. He was somewhat stunned that I actually said it, but he felt it coming, “I felt you slipping away, but I had no idea you were already gone.” That crushed my heart, and the tears flowed. From both of us.

We had a brief, calm discussion about how I felt. I emphasized that we no longer had a real marriage. And the fact that we had no solution in sight, it made no sense to pretend that we had a marriage. I needed more. He agreed that we had completely lost our connection-- exactly the one thing that we had both been previously so proud of.

He left the room. I heard him crying heavier in the bedroom. And the bathroom. The sobbing stopped, and he grabbed his guitar. The quiet strumming and somber notes said everything to me that he couldn’t. I felt his pain, even if I didn’t share it. I texted anyone I could. I needed a distraction. I needed to make sure I wasn’t deep asleep in the middle of a nightmare. It had been 18.5 years since this song and dance started, and with a few spoken words it was over. We were done, and I was moving on.