The Last Word

“Is this it? A divorce? Is this how it’s going to end?”

I spoke those words in the car on the highway after date night. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, our night out. We were going to go out to a simple dinner, a new place. Just a couple of hours then back home. Easy. Relaxing.

I guess the week’s stressors got to me and I broke my rule. I asked a question that led to a statement by him, which pissed me off. It wasn’t even an explosive conversation as much as it was a sad one. We’re at a crossroads, I think.

He’s not doing everything I need.

He’s doing everything he can.

In the past I said he’s at capacity. I believe it. I know he can’t handle anything else. It’s not a cop out, it’s just the fact. I know him well and he doesn’t manage a lot very well. Right now he is managing a lot yet I don’t know how to lower my expectations of what I need to heal the marriage, to heal us.

We both admit it’s not a great place to be and I feel like if we have a shot at working, I’m going to have to expect less than what I want right now, which doesn’t seem fair to me. I mean damn it already, I’ve already had so much taken from me, haven’t I? It doesn’t seem fair that for two decades he cheated on me and cheated me out of having an authentic marriage and family. It doesn’t seem fair that he’s taken my peace of mind, my security, everything I believed to be true and just fucked with it in order to make himself happy, all at the expense of me and then now I have to expect less than I want?

I realized he cheated himself too, I know, but that shit was his choice, sex addict or not, it was his fucking choice. He was doing what he knew to be wrong and he never tried to stop it. He lived a surface life, only connecting so much with me, his children, friends. I suppose only his whore “friends” knew his true identity. They knew he was a cheater and a liar and they accepted him for that, but then they only saw one side of him: the confident guy, the one who can make you smile and laugh and feel good about yourself. Based on what he’s told me sexually, they didn’t even get the best of him sexually. What a waste of space, time and emotion. What a waste of a good, strong marriage.

So I said the words. “Do you think it’s time for us to plan on you moving out?”

He said, “Is that what you want? Would it make it easier on you?” Me, “Yes. But I think if we separate right now, we’ll probably end up divorcing.”

“Then we’re not separating. We’re not at that point, are we? No. We’re not. We’re not going to talk about divorce right now,” he said, firmly.

“But we just did.” I said, then I cried. Then he completely shut down for the rest of the night.

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