I’ve been trying all week to write a post about the imminent, looming D-word in my life, obviously to no avail.
And, no, I’m not talking about my password. 🙂
I’m terrified and relieved at the same time. That’s what I say to whomever asks me about it, anyway, which is still just a tiny handful of people. And, of course, all of you wonderful, supportive password holders. “Terrified” is an umbrella word that covers such adjectives as “worried,” “guilty,” “sad,” “despairing,” and “lonely.” And “relieved” covers “free,” “optimistic,” “hopeful,” and…well, there should be a fourth and fifth for symmetry’s sake, but they’re not coming to me.
The moment of clarity is hard to explain without feeling ridiculous. We were at Starbucks on Saturday before our couples counseling session, which we’ve been doing weekly for over a year now, since I told him about the affair. We were getting ready to leave, so I gathered up our trash, crumpled it in my hands, and handed it to Cautionary Husband, smiling and saying, “Here, trashman.”
I fully expected him to take it to the trashcan, which wasn’t too far behind him, but instead he glared at me with pure hatred.
And that’s when I knew. This will never work.
Of course, that’s not a reason for the divorce, just the moment of clarity. I’m not ready to write about the reasons yet. I’m not sure if I ever will be. Though I do have to figure out what to tell my mother, who believes that a marriage should be maintained at all costs, even at the cost of happiness.
Since the divorce is uncontested and we have no joint assets, we don’t have to go to court. We don’t need lawyers or even mediators. We print up a contract and sign it. Mail it in with a $240 check. Split savings 50/50. Remove his name from my car. Remove our rings.
Remove each other from our lives. Plural now.