Divorce is Inevitable

It's been five days since my husband left my two girls and me. Five days of my whole world being turned upside down. I'm free falling into a place I've never been before; I've only ever been married, it seems. I was a child, and then I was married.

Even though he left me, I feel I'm to blame. The what ifs are creeping in on me, slowly increasing their steadfast pace into my already guilt-ridden consciousness. What if I had greeted him more kindly when he came home; what if I had touched him more, hugged him more; what if I had treated him more like a husband and less like a room mate? This caterpillar of thought simply threads its way through my mind, making its way to my heart, until it squeezes so hard I can hardly breath.

I can't decide which is worse; the guilt or the pain. And what of my daughters? Will they blame me? It feels as if everyone else does, except for the voice that keeps reminding me: "For better or for worse." I believed in him when he told me that almost 16 years ago. The worse has coiled itself around us now like a poisonous snake for over two years. In my mind, I thought we were battling this demon together, waiting for "the better" to start illuminate a light that had long been put out. There is no light, only darkness.

I've lost not only my husband, but I've lost half my family. The words are floating around me like bubbles: words of "We won't take sides," "We're just all sad by it," "We still love you both," but those words pop suddenly because they are tinged with blame. The unspoken words form like silly putty - stretching over the well-meaning lies. These words are painted in red and purple and are angry. "Why couldn't you have been a better wife?" "You never deserved him." "We all saw this coming."

But I didn't see this coming. Not because I was wearing a pair of rose colored glasses, but because I wasn't wearing anything that obstructed the view of what my marriage really was. I was looking at two imperfect people, trying to play a game we couldn't win because we were playing against each other.

I look at my ring, the circle that was to be our love - complete. I finger the small cluster of diamonds on each side, representing our two separate lives before we met, before we fell in love. I gaze at the large marquis, wondering how this can even be a symbol for our one-ness, our love, when the human heart is so easily shattered. How can something so brilliant represent dreams of a life together when those dreams are so readily forgotten? And how can something that will last thousands of years even hope to stand for the frailty of the bonds of marriage? How can I even think about tomorrow and expect to go on?