It’s been about 67 days. Not that many. A lot in some regards.
Around that many days ago it ended. My marriage, as I knew it ,was done. I didn’t catch him in bed with anyone, or pick up the last dirty sock I ever would. It just happened in a casual conversation.
It was literally that.
Well, there was the previous ten years of struggle, stress, frustration and hurt on both sides. But technically it ended on a Wednesday afternoon after a family trip.
We had been in the shits for the last two years. The real obvious, this isn’t working, what should we do shit.
Our story was like everyone else’s. Love, wedding, kids, stress, distance, love ain’t enough. But we weren’t going to stick it out. At least as a traditional marriage.
We have three kids. The purest form of joy that walks this earth. The reason I will never regret my marriage. Not for one day.
One day we just laid our swords down and surrendered. Date nights, therapy, conversations and tears were not enough. We were miserable, resentful and full of mental weight and exhaustion. If either of us heard or read the term date night again we would have stabbed the messenger.
I can stand here, even this soon into separation and say we did EVERYthing possible to save it. And that in the end helped us own the reality.
He is and always will be my best friend. He is also my new roommate.
See we are attempting a non traditional separation. We live in the same home. Not the same room. But we live with our kids, in our home, and manage our responsibilities. And as of today, only a handful of people know.
We choose to keep it from even the kids at this point. Remember, it’s only three months. They are young. And we are choosing to go at our own pace. It helps that we are both civil, loving and kind towards each other. We discuss our separation daily, we are honest and hopeful that this will work out. Not to get back together, but to become a different kind of family.