The Sound A New Email Makes

Every time I hear the sound of an email coming in to my phone or iPad, I feel my heart sink into my stomach.  Part of me dreads it and part hopes for it to be a message from him because he was everything not so long ago.  We haven't had any contact whatsoever in over three weeks now.  He went to a lawyer only a few days after he left.  There was no discussion.  He just made all the decisions and said they were all for my benefit.  I had a divorce agreement at my mail in a matter of days (that's the day I took my wedding ring off...well, moved it to my right hand).  Before this silence, his emails said that our home was always more mine than his, and now all he wants from me is to get on with his life.  All the while, I have said NOTHING, and he never asked.

There was no big blow-out.  He just left.  Sure, he had been cold to me for two days: trying to push my buttons and make his little comments.  I refused to fight with him.  Then, on a Friday morning, he wasn't home.  He stormed in some time later and told me he was moving in with his mother.  He made a big dramatic scene about taking his ring off and slamming it down in front of me.  "I'm DONE."

I asked him if he loved me.  He said he "did."  I asked then about the kids, and he said he never felt like their father, anyway (though he let them know over the years, time and again, that he wanted to adopt them, they'd never lose another father, and they called him Daddy).  He told me he would be back with his sister to get his things.  Then I just let him go.  Because fuck him.  We had talked about this, about putting the children first if we didn't work out.  He broke every single promise he ever made to us.  He can send an email that says that all he wants from me is to move on with his life, and there's no part of me that feels I owe him anything anymore or ever, ever again.

When he came again later that day, the kids and I hid in my daughter's room.  I stroked my son's hair while he sobbed in my lap.  #2 packed up his Xbox, the new TV,  the steam mop and vacuum (WHAT THE HELL?!?!- he left the house and all the furniture but took the steam mop and vacuum!), his clothes, and his comic books (in that order).  He left every present I ever made or bought for him.  (He also left all his important paperwork, family photos and winter jackets...we all have our priorities.)

I had been far too safe and comfortable.  This was bound to happen, I suppose, when you give someone so much- at least, that's what's always, always happened in my life.  He said that I didn't trust him.  But I was once a fourteen year old girl, listening to the sounds of my step father leave, including the sound of the door closing shut with not so much as goodbye.  The sad truth is that I trusted him far too much.

There's no emails coming in.  It's all lawyers now and waiting.

Just Days

I'm a teacher so I've decided to blog anonymously.

Writing has always helped.  I need that now.  I need it all out of my head.  I want someone to know.  And no one to know.  So maybe the teacher thing is just a good excuse.

I've shut down all my social media pages because I can't see the "unfriends" right now, or maybe ever again.  The very day #2 left, his sister and her kid (former nephew, I guess :( ) unfriended me IMMEDIATELY, and it crushed me.  A big swift kick while I was already down.  I couldn't bear that heartache again.  His leaving was oh so very much...sometimes now I'll hear a great big CRACK in my dreams like the world was hit by another planet suddenly and without warning.  I think its the aftershocks of that morning when he left.  I've got enough to work through without Facebook's help.  But some part of me wants to document this incredible mess I've made/the mess that his actual running away from our marriage has caused.  

I counted days for awhile.  I thought about what I would write on day 1, day 2, day, 24, the longest we had ever been apart...but the best I could do was get through those days and focus on my poor children who lost so much, too.  Right now, it's about a month and a half in.  Enough time has passed that I don't know it in days now exactly.  Time has its peculiar medicine.  I thought I would have to count the days for much longer than I did.

But here I am now.  This is how I choose to write my story.  I am a single mom of a preteen and a teenager and a school teacher, but I am going to do my best to devote a little time here everyday to put the pieces back together and to call his bluff.  He broke my life, but I will remake myself better than I was with him.  Little by little, day by day.