Before we get into the first day of the trial separation, I feel it necessary to write about how I dealt with him moving out of the house over the weekend. 

First of all, I put forth my best efforts to avoid being in the house during any time where he or his parents were here moving things out and back into their home. He did not take all of his possessions seeing as this is only meant to be a trial, but he did have his parents help him with a lot of the heavy lifting.  I was gone all of Friday evening into Saturday afternoon as I went to a concert with some friends and then crashed on their couch after. I managed to only be home with my husband at the same time Saturday afternoon for a total of 90 minutes give or take, and then I went to DC for another concert and didn’t return until after 2am Sunday morning. Here’s where the real move out day begins for me and everything sinks in. 

After having a very late night, I manage to sleep in until 11am Sunday morning. This is a rarity for me, but I needed the sleep.  I come downstairs with my dog, who stayed in bed with me, (I should mention that after returning from Europe, I began sleeping in our guest room and have ever since.) and no one is here. I check my phone and see that there are several messages from my husband, but nothing saying where he was going. After feeling ZERO emotion for months, I finally felt a twinge of something... sadness. Is that what we have become? Leaving after 4.5 years without a “goodbye”? I couldn’t believe it... so I texted him and found out that he got called into work, thus delaying his final move.  Feeling of relief settled in...

I passed the afternoon by reading the 8th installment of the Harry Potter series. In this time, my husband returned home and began packing the rest of his possessions that he considered to be “essential”. Finally, the time came at 4:45 pm on July 31, 2016. He loaded everything into the car, said he’ll talk to me later, and pulled away. 

I sat there dumbfounded for about 30 seconds watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 on tv and of course it’s the part where Hedwig dies and I lose it.  I finally did something that I have yet to do in regards to this entire situation... I cried... no, I BAWLED my eyes out for the better part of an hour. I had no idea what was going on.  I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. I surely did not miss him. I wasn’t even upset that he was gone. I was upset that I was officially alone and financially responsible for myself. All the thoughts and realizations of, “How the hell am I going to support myself?”, “How am I going to survive on my own?”, and “Why am I giving up this lush lifestyle?” whirled through my head in a mix of tears and snot.. (Sorry, I warned you this would be raw). 

After about 15 minutes of this, I decided to text one of my good friends who knew everything about the situation and has been through a divorce to let her know that he left and I wasn’t doing as well as I had hoped. She told me something that I know is going to help me get through this in the early stages. 

“One hour at a time. Screw the one ‘day’ at a time concept.”