For those who don’t already know, I am now divorced.
I don’t need sympathy, or well wishes, or good vibes. I sure as fuck don’t need your prayers, or opinions on why my marriage failed. The reasons it failed are myriad, complicated, and it would be hubris to think I could even begin to unpack everything that happened over the past several years.
If you want, though, here are some facts. I have been unhappy for a while. My unhappiness seemed, to me, tied to a set of circumstances that weren’t going to change anytime soon. There are many reasons why I thought this, and there are reasons why I rejected assurances of change from my ex-spouse. But this was a terrible cruelty to her, and she felt betrayal, and shame, and anger, and sadness, all at intensities that far exceed anything I could imagine. I caused her a most bitter pain, and I will wrestle with that for a long time.
I still love and respect my ex-wife, and I wish her every happy circumstance life has for her. I still miss her, and I miss the fur baby we loved and doted on together. Running through pictures in my phone can still leave me in a malaise for a day. The emotional hits come on with electric speed and intensity, crackling streaks of pain that rival any physical hurt.
It will get better. People move on. Ultimately, our choices are our own.
She would say it was my choice. But love’s to blame.
Exit, stage left.