Every Wrong Reason

The new silence hit me harder than anything else. I had been living alone for a while, but I always had Annie with me. She was always here to greet me at the kitchen door when I got home from work or curl up with me on the couch.

Logically, I knew she was only going to be gone for a half hour or so. I knew Nick would bring her back to me safe and sound.

But the house felt immensely lonely now. It fell down on my shoulders with a crushing weight. My chest deflated and my lungs gave out.

I fell to my knees in a heap of loud sobbing and uncontrollable tears. My wet hands splashed water all over my work clothes, but I couldn’t find the energy to care. I was too wrapped up in my own pain, too lost in the heartbreak inside my chest.

Unexpected grief crashed over me and I gasped for breath, stretched for the effort to continue living through this agony.

Why did it hurt so much? If this was what we both wanted, why did it feel like death instead of life?

I had loved this man once. I had loved him more than anything else in life. And now we treated each other like enemies. I hurt him every time I saw him. And I did it on purpose.

I was a good, decent person. I believed in my career. I wanted to change lives and give the kids I worked with a future they might not have otherwise. And yet, when I was with my husband, I turned into a vicious, crazed harpy that couldn’t listen to reason or rationalize logically. Every nice, kind thing inside of me jumped out the window and I started flinging insults meant to wound, to harm permanently… to kill whatever good, decent person was left in him.

I hated who I was with Nick.

And I had to be honest with myself and admit that it wasn’t Nick that made me this way. There was something ugly inside of me… something monstrous and vengeful.

I didn’t want to keep talking to him like this; I didn’t want to keep hurting him. What was even the point anymore? We were over. We were separated. The least I could do, after years and years and years of this, was treat him like a human being worthy of respect.

We weren’t going to be man and wife anymore, but that didn’t make us enemies.

Just because we didn’t love each other, didn’t mean our only option was to hate each other instead.

I grabbed the kitchen towel hanging from the cabinet next to my head and used it to dry my tears and my hands. I sat there while I tried to piece the shattered fragments of myself back together.

It wasn’t easy and I wasn’t entirely successful. But I managed to resolve something inside of me, something lasting and intentional. I didn’t have to treat Nick badly to make myself feel better.

This was hard on both of us. And it didn’t look like it would be getting any easier.

But if I could weather this storm, if I could walk this journey without inflicting any more lasting wounds, there might be healing at the end for me too.

I wanted this divorce because I was sick and tired of being miserable, of wishing I could be happy, of wanting a better life. On the floor of my kitchen, all alone and feeling my worst, I realized I didn’t have to wait for Nick to go away before I could grab those things and make them realities in my life.

I didn’t have to wait for the papers to be signed before I could stop being miserable… until I had a better life.

Those were things I had the power to change.

And I would change them. Starting now.

The front door opened and I jumped to my feet. I slammed the faucet down, so the water would stop running and give away my breakdown.

I threw the towel on the counter and wiped at my face one more time with my fingertips before moving quickly to meet Nick in the entryway. He unhooked the leash from Annie’s collar and patted her on the head before standing up to his full, impressive height.

I knew by the way he looked at me that he could tell I’d been crying. Biting, defensive words immediately landed on the tip of my tongue, but I held them back, even if it cut into my pride.

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