I think he forgot a burrito for lunch. I’m pretty sure it was a burrito. Anyway, he definitely forgot something in the house as we were navigating through the garage to our cars. He had a full day of work and I think I was only working until 2:30 so we took separate cars that day. As he walked past me, running back in to get said “burrito” I had anticipated a quick kiss on the cheek, but that didn’t happen. I waited until he was walking back out to the garage and gave quick, “Hey, no kiss? What the heck?” sort of comment. I got a sigh and a quick peck on the cheek and off he went. It was fucking weird.
In my co-dependent, insecure brain, I kept running the garage interaction through my mind. Totally obsessing. Finally I decided I needed to send a quick text just to touch base and make sure he was doing ok – he seemed so “off” that morning. Something wasn’t right and I was going to be the one to fix it. Obviously. Duh. That’s what good wives do. I can control this situation, I’ve got this.
The return text was something to the effect of, “I’m starting therapy on Monday, it’s the earliest they could get me in. I have some stuff I need to work through. I need some space.”
He told me he didn’t know. I told him I was going to start therapy too because if his stuff was affecting our relationship, then I obviously played a part in the problem. I wanted to work on myself to be a better partner. I went immediately into crisis mode.
“You can never let me just have one thing, can you?”
Seriously, guys. Holy shit. Me going to therapy is taking something away from him? Am I making whatever shady shit is going on worse by working on myself too?
Anyway, that garbage went on for a month or so. I cried a lot. My friends told me I didn’t know what he was thinking and he was probably just processing some childhood stuff now that we had recently moved away from his family. I should give him space and not worry. Meanwhile, he was sleeping in the guest room and was out until midnight and sometimes later with “friends from work” going “biking and grabbing dinner after” while I was home with the kids, saying nothing, so he had his space to figure whatever it was out and things wouldn’t be as bad as I was afraid they might be.
I convinced myself that everything leading up to this was because we had a lot of upheaval in the year and every relationship has it’s ups and downs. We moved. He started a new job. With his encouragement, I started working. All the kids were finally in school. I had a hysterectomy. That’s a lot of stuff. Things would settle down when the kids went back to school in the fall and things would go back to the insecure, resentful status quo we had come to accept. Yes, things hadn’t been good for several months leading up to this, but I could justify all of it. Things leading up to our move had been better than ever. We were a team, firing on all cylinders. This was a low point, but we’d get back to a high point soon.
Nope. It was the “Big D”…. and not the good kind.
Anyway, the day after he told me he was filing for divorce, a friend busted him with an employee of his that he had recently promoted. Ha. Yeah, ok. He said he “was probably in love” with her and the feelings were “definitely not appropriate given the working relationship” but he didn’t cheat and “she’s just a really good friend who listens to and supports” him. AND I FELL FOR THAT SHIT!
The take away here is that I am smart and it blindsided me. I thought that I knew where he was and who he was with because I believed the things he told me. He is BELIEVABLE and I loved him and I wanted to believe what he said was true. He smiled and said all the right things. How could this happen? Things get hard sometimes, but marriages don’t just abruptly end without talking and therapy and trying to make it work together.
Let me be crystal clear. There was NOTHING I could have done at this point, even though at the time I would have given anything to prevent it from happening. Nothing I did or said would’ve mattered. Nothing we do or say can change the way another person behaves or feels. We could be the perfect spouse/child/parent/friend and they will still do what they will… because it’s not about us. It’s about them and their own shit – it just sucks that sometimes it boils over and fucks with other people… like you and me.
In another post I’ll get into the therapy aspect, because it’s big. And I’ll probably talk about it until my fingers fall off, but I felt like I needed to get a brief understanding of how this went down, from my perspective, to know that I get you. It’s purpose isn’t to trash anyone, just to share how it happened to me, because I know that when I was in the throes of it, hearing how others felt in these early days gave me a strange sense of relief. I know how it feels to have an inkling, but to convince yourself you’re crazy because that’s what you’ve been told for the last however-many years by people like this. I get the pain, the bargaining, the begging… I do. And I’m sorry you do too. Believe me, and I’m sure it sounds like bullshit right now (because it felt like it when people said it to me), but it does get better. I promise. Stick with me, kid. We’ve got this.
Anyway, that’s how a burrito and a text ended up being the beginning of the end of my marriage… at least in my mind. Weird, huh?
Becoming Again 