I found my old diary the other day.. And yes, I read it through because it was written at the time my ex-husband announced he didn’t want to do this anymore. It was revealing to me now that so many years have passed because there were things I had forgotten.
What I had forgotten was my wide range of emotions during that time. I flowed from feeling badly that he didn’t want to do this anymore, to anger, to resentment, to wanting to help him to be happy, to holding him as he cried. And I’d forgotten how many times he had cried, with me holding him…not the other way around.
Except for once when I had cried for 30 minutes, you know, that gutted cry that comes from the depths of your soul. I had just broken down in our bedroom, convulsing in grief and when I had finally ebbed to a quieter cry, he came up to hold me and to say he was sorry. I allowed him to hold me because I needed to be held, but once I regained my composure, I thanked him and walked away. And I made sure that if I were to cry like that again, I would check beforehand that I was completely alone in the house.
I read how I wanted to help the broken man that threw away everything and everyone. A shell of the man that he’s become. It was sad to read what I was witnessing at the time and fascinating how I never asked him to reconsider. That inner strength of not backing down and not wanting a man who didn’t want me was clear in every entry. I don’t know from where it comes, but it’s innate. And I’m really grateful for its fortitude.
My entries about the kids and their reactions to his announcement that we were divorcing were sad because of how each of them took it differently. Consoling his family was another entry…imagine consoling his family as they cried in my arms because their son/brother was leaving me and our kids. Not the other way around mind you. Nope, I consoled them. What the heck?
Then there were his mood swings…from inertia, to being angry and cold, to crying. I have always felt there was a secret that he couldn’t tell me as to why he was leaving us. I have my suspicions which are not public so please don’t ask or suggest what you may think it is. Someday I may find out the truth and then I can explain more.
Because when you are determined to leave, you leave, especially when you have a place to go. But he didn’t. I had to ask him to go…actually tell him to leave after so many weeks of him sitting around our home like a pet rock. I often wondered why he didn’t get out when that was what he wanted. Be on your own. Be free. Go your own way. You have what you said you wanted. Why are you torturing yourself and us?
The last interesting part of the entries was this: he never said the divorce word to me directly – ever. He told the kids we were getting divorced. He told his family divorce. But he never said it to me. And still hasn’t to this day. He’s always found a way around that word. I wonder what that’s about?
The man remains a mystery that I no longer choose to try to solve. There will always be that part that’s grateful for our journey together – all the good and bad that we experienced – and the result of our union – my two kids. I wish him healing for his sake and for the relationship with the kids that’s still suffering. But that’s it.
Looking back helped me to let go.