The last day…

 

I’d had a plan to leave my husband, in spring. It had been a homework challenge, with counseling. Then it became a “what other choice do I have, if he doesn’t want me?” sort of option, which evolved into an “I want this to happen.” sort of scheme. I had set my deadline so far away because I honestly believed he would step up and proclaim a fight for us. Everyone who really knew me realized this. I just couldn’t utter those words myself because the rejection of the one person who truly, deeply knew me was already destroying me. Once I spoke those words into the world, they were real and if he didn’t, I felt like it would be the death of me.

The last afternoon, before life truly fell apart (and seven days before I no longer had a home or a family) my husband and I had a great afternoon together. We had connected more in the former 15 days than we had in months and I felt filled with hope. I had been out-of-town for a couple of days and I’d missed him so much. I told him as much, when I returned. We went for coffee, shopped a little and sat talking for a long while. It was the sort of conversation filled with laughter, memories, dreams and a thousand other veins of talk that only could be truly made sense of by us- the livers of the life we were in. As the sunlight streamed through the windows of that second floor room where we sat, I felt so overcome with how grateful I was for my life, how deeply I loved that man and how desperately I wanted our marriage to last.

I fell asleep snuggled deep into him, inhaling him and just forcing myself to live in that moment. I had no idea what tomorrow held…

With a fierce punch to the heart, also known as disastrous hind sight, I was smacked with all of this today as I sat for a minute looking back on my Instagram stream. There on that day, in that room, was my daily photo. Because, as we were walking out I knew I’d want to remember it forever. Forever I will…

It’s so hard, with the magic of hindsight-vision, to not simply hate yourself for what you threw away. Regardless of the hows, the whys or the other factors- I had my own responsibility in the situation. While it’s true, I felt (by that time) that I had no choice in the way it all played out- I now see differently. So today, tear-stained and feeling so rebroken, I have to hold on to the memories to soothe the ache, and keep moving forward.

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