Things came to a head again last night with Hubby and I. I won’t even get into details and I’ll just say that I told him I wanted to separate. He didn’t seem to get it at first and talked about how we can’t afford that and we don’t need it. We talked more, about practical things. He kept saying we just don’t need that and I kept saying that *I* do. I can’t keep living like this. I find myself time and again asking myself what I am fighting for here. We make each other so miserable. I never, not in a million years, could have imagined that he and I would be here. It’s why it’s taking me so long.
But.. but.. it’s US.
I’m 39 years old and I’ve loved this man for 13 years of my life. He is my only family. He is my best friend. We have only had each other through so much of this life, moving place to place with the military. We can’t be here. We can’t really be making each other so unhappy. I know we’ve never been perfect, but we really were really good.
But I can’t live like this. It’s affecting my sleep and my digestion. My hair is falling out. I swear it is. My body hurts and I’ve had 3 migraines in the last 2 weeks. I can’t keep expecting the jackal and getting Mr. Hyde. I just can’t. Everyone has a limit.
I decided yesterday to move out at the beginning of June or the beginning of July. I don’t know if I should rent a room for 6 months and put some things in storage in case we divorce, or just rent a room and trust Hubby to give up things later if we split, or rent a studio or one bedroom and actually take what I want and need, or what? If I leave with just a few things can I get some of our things later if we split? Do I really want to move things into and pay for storage and a room to rent and then move them again later if we split? What do I do with an apartment if we don’t split and work it out? I don’t have this all worked out.
I don’t want to get divorced. Hell.. I don’t want to separate.
I figured I’d move into the spare room for the time being. Then at least I’d have a home to come to where I can be at peace. I could go to my room at least.
I cleared stuff out and moved a bunch of stuff in there last night. I started out happy that I had a solution I could live with. I thought about how nice it would be to have a space again that I could be in and be at peace. And then I broke down.
It was just so damn real.
I don’t WANT to be apart. I want him. I want him to be a decent person who not only treats me well but loves me. I want him to love me. I want us to talk again and have fun. I want us to be happy and normal with each other. I want to take a trip to Portland and have fun exploring and reconnecting and just being us. I want him to want to hold me and to kiss me and to talk to me like I’m a person, like I’m his partner. I want a magic wand or even a complicated blood ritual.
I just cried and cried and cried.
I went down to where he was playing video games on the couch and talked to him. He held me a little, even though it was clear he wanted to get back to his video game (yeah.. I noticed that). He asked me not to move into the spare room and I agreed, even though I honestly think it’s a stay of execution on the inevitable. I think we all know what will happen here without a dramatic and sustained change.
I don’t really want to be apart.
I don’t really want to be apart.