I guess you could say our split was amicable. Yes, I felt emotionally distraught and confused. But how could I justify anger when my EX approached me so calmly, openly and honestly about his need for change, independence and self-discovery? I couldn’t argue the fact that, when we met, neither of us really believed in the institution of marriage (at least not for us). But we did get married and, in my heart and mind, I wasn’t ready to give up on our vows. And who was I to force my EX to stay in a situation he no longer felt was right for him? I couldn’t make him love me anymore.
Our last 2 weeks together were an emotional roller coaster... for both of us. We argued, we hugged, we laughed and we cried. We sorted through photos and love letters that documented our 8 years together. They were like exhibit pieces displaying the love, passion, adventure and playfulness we had shared. They captured the reasons why we got married in the 1st place. How could so many great years and amazing memories suddenly dissolve into nothingness? He had been my best friend, my greatest ally, my cheerleader, my confidante, my shoulder to cry on. No-one knew me better than my EX. He was that rare individual for whom I dared complete vulnerability. Prior to my EX, I had never trusted so unflinchingly. With him, I felt safe. Despite his flaws, I loved my EX unconditionally and unabashedly.
Yes, I guess you could say our split was so amicable that we even had a going away party. It was part bon voyage, part yard sale. He was going on a European tour for an indefinite amount of time and I was moving across country into a tiny room in a shared apartment. And, like anyone else living the American Dream, we had acquired a lot of stuff!
We laughed and reminisced amongst mutual friends who were as shocked as I was about the end of our marriage. But we reassured everyone that we were okay; as if our parting was sweet sorrow. Meanwhile, our home (our 1st major purchase as a married couple) was slowly becoming dismantled by eager buyers looking to furnish their nest Craigslist-style. Traces of my married life were either getting packed away or erased. I cried inside while maintaining my hospitality and the facade of a smile. Because that’s how I do.
