Here it is. The day I’ve been dreading – and wishing for – for the past 6 weeks. The day my husband moves out. The past week was kind of crazy. I started a Pilates class on Monday night. I also have my therapist appointment that night. So in between the two, I went to grab some dinner. While I was eating, my husband called and asked if he could join me (he sees his therapist every other Monday, and her office is right down the street from where I was eating). When he got there, he told me how sad he was. I know he is. His weight is down to what it was when he was in his early 20’s. But that was the first time he said anything out loud like that to me. Up until that point it had been me crying and him telling me that we were doing the right thing, that this is what needs to be done. So when he told me how he was feeling, I was glad to be able to be the strong one for him. I think it’s such a testament to our relationship that we can be there like this for each other, even as we go through the hardest thing we’ve faced as a couple.
I took Tuesday off and had a great day. I spent the morning with the guy I’m dating. He made me breakfast, and we spent a lot of time talking. Then we spent a lot of time not talking. It was a great morning. I wonder how it sounds to people (everyone who reads this) to hear me say how much I’m crying over my separation, and then the next paragraph is about how I see my boyfriend (because that’s what he is, not matter how I try to tell myself he’s not). I know how it sounds to me and one word to describe it is bipolar. How can one person be of two different minds the way I am about this? I guess that’s why my separation is a good thing – I definitely need to figure this out.
Anyway, I spent the afternoon running some errands. It was such a beautiful day and I just forgot about everything for a couple of hours and enjoyed myself.
Thursday night went to dinner with my husband. We wanted to go pick up some things he’ll need for his new place. While at dinner I realized it was our 17 month anniversary, and started crying pretty hard. But as always, my husband was wonderful and I was able to put away my entire plate of lobster risotto.
And then Friday. I woke up yesterday morning and looked over at my husband, knowing it was the last time I would wake him up for work. It was such a hard day. All day I was on the verge of tears. A couple of times while I was on the phone with a co-worker or my client I would feel myself almost start to cry. I managed to hold it together until 5. That’s when I was talking to my boyfriend and he asked me if I was okay. I said no and just started crying. I have to say that he’s wonderful too, and though there’s a conflict of interest (or something like that) he always listens to me when I need to talk, and helps me feel better. I also work with people who really care about me, and they’ve been great on a day-to-day basis, too. So I pulled myself together and went to have drinks with them. Came home and cried by myself for a while, then went to bed. My husband was out with co-workers and came home a bit later, after I’d fallen asleep. But I woke up and we talked for a little while. I just can’t believe he’s going to be gone after tonight. Or actually, when I get home later. I’m going to head out around noon, the same time his friends are coming over to help him move the big things. I’ll come home later and he’ll be gone. It’s too weird. Too much to think about.
The only thing I hope at this point is that the anticipation of his moving out will have been worse than the actual event. I feel like I’ve been on the executioner’s block and he’s been standing over me, taunting me. And now he’s ready to let the axe fall. It’s exactly what I need to happen so that I can move on with my life.
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