Doors Opened and Closed
This rainy weather has me itching to write, so i shall.
I am in the process of being divorced.
Divorce is so sad , it is like the death of a relationship.
But boy, let me tell you do I feel so much better knowing it is almost over.
It has taken me weeks of being with Fal ( the boyfriend I have had since New Years and had been dating my husband as well), weeks of just he and I to establish a new rhythm, to heal from my husband's actions and to truly enjoy the quiet. Weeks have been used and spent for me to realize I was not in a healthy relationship for the past few years.
Let me start by saying my husband never hit me, and he truly tried to treat me as an equal. My husband never hit me but he would hit walls. He didn't appear to try to break me but he did break our doors.
I wasn't ever quite happy in my marriage. I had assumed it was due to my depression that had plagued me more than half my life. I assumed the despair that creeped in the Windows and anxiety that snuck through cracked doors were simply to be my companions and my lot in life.
Perhaps I had set the wrong precedent at the beginning. When Beo and I first moved in together I was rather submissive. Throughout my previous dating experiences I stuck to the Beta male type. The kind that would be happy with me taking charge and would stick to their jobs throughout life but would not necessarily be corporate ladder climbers either. In other words dependable right hand men, that more often than not were passive. Comfortable. Safe.
So when I began with Beo, an all alpha male, I didn't know where to be placed and decided to do the survival instinct and defer to the leader.
Slowly bit by bit I learned where I could sass and be opinionated. For many of those days we had fun bantering back and forth. He'd shown some possessive tendencies and it felt nice to be so protected, cherished. He had always insisted even when we expanded our relationship to share it with other that I was to be treated delicately and I was his gem, his treasure.
It wasn't until hindsight kicked in and I was comparing my life to before the break and after. With Fal I began learning what it was like to be someone's treasure rather than hoard.
On the occasions I had a different opion than him we would discuss it like a debate. I felt we were so much more mature than our counterparts.
But eventually we realized that we rarely agreed on issues that were more than basics. Our interests didn't align, our aspirations and even theologies clashed.
I wanted to expand my life and self awareness. I called my previous submissive self, "Mouse Spouse", someone I never wanted to become again. During my "mouse spouse" time I was at an all time low and was heavily considering suicide on a daily basis.
After a particularly difficult argument he had thrown out that he wished that we could go back to how I was at the beginning of our marriage, ie mouse spouse.
I reminded him what that had meant but he insisted it would be better because at least then I was agreeable. I considered it. Shutting myself down to not cause conflict but then I brought out the argument that with the meek came the QUIET. The QUIET was the lack of stimulus, he'd lose that banter and having a second in command to bounce things off of... Ah the debate finally settled. But the fact he wanted that still stung.
This isn't my story of being a victim. Or being miserable. Fuck this isn't even my story in any sort of completion. But... I needed to write some of this. Whether as a sign of red flags or just to share to the void my frustrations. Maybe I am still coming to peace that it's over and for the better.
On the surface we learned to deal with each others idiosyncrasies and senses of humor. We built inside jokes and a life together built upon what appeared to be mutual respect. He charmed any child around him and would stare down a bear if it meant protecting me.
We laughed, we would go on long drives, he'd carry me to bed in his magnificently strong arms and dance in the kitchen.
This tale is just how behind every beautiful tapestry there can be a complete mess. I didn't look too closely until I pulled the plug.
The blemishes were there. Taking little bits along the way.
Dear God did it hurt when my car became my safe space from the yelling and passive aggressive remarks.
Fuck did it suck when I would lay in an empty bed all night because he wasn't tired till 5am.
But I think what stole away the last of my trust was when he got so drunk with friends that after they had gone he turned surly. That when I couldn't take the spewed insults in my face any longer that I went inside. He broke our door because he was so drunk he thought I had locked him out. He didn't hit me, but dammit he broke ANOTHER door so I slapped him. I had hoped it would knock him from his stupor. I don't know what occurred next but then he was above me and we were across the kitchen on the floor.
He has no memory of that night. Not of that incident that made me avoid the kitchen for months after that as much as possible or the remainder of the night where he eventually disappeared into the night and I went looking for him.
Looking back I believe I should have ended it there. But his remorse afterwards was so genuine and it wasn't like he had hit me, not really. He quit drinking after one more similar incident. We went to the marriage counselor that couldn't find anything necessarily "wrong" with us, he tried, I tried. It wasn't enough.
His betrayal happened on Easter morning, and for several ways I probably would have let it slide if it hadn't hurt others as well.
So I think maybe that was my little miracle. I stood in that kitchen and asked for a divorce.
I still live in that house and will continue to do so until the divorce has finalized. He was not a bad man. I will always love him but we were toxic....
But now, with writing, friends, family, and Fal's unwavering support everyone around me has noticed that I am happier. I don't believe I'll ever leave depression behind but having these positives in my life and the negative weight gone I actually feel like I can breathe.
Tonight like so many nights since April I will go home, lock my door, begin dinner, and dance in my kitchen.
