No, not the fun kind.

I’m in limbo. Not quite divorced, not quite married. I’ve actually been here for quite a while, and you’d think I’d be used to it by now. But this time is different. This time there is an end in sight and I can almost taste it.

“D” day came and went. We had a full trial, because, well, why wouldn’t we? You can’t negotiate with a narcissist.

We have nothing left. We have no assets. And in addition to leaving me, he wants me to pay for all of our remaining debts. I have a bit of a problem with that.

In any case, after the trial and before the gavel came down, the Judge said a whole bunch about the dissolution of my marriage, and that we have three children and I’m not pregnant…yadda yadda, but she never actually signed anything. She said she would submit her written findings by August 28th.

My lawyer assures me I am divorced. But, without a signed decree, I’m still in limbo. I can’t legally prove that I am divorced.

This (and only this) roller coaster is almost done. I say “only this” because I’m not stupid enough to think that baloney he pulls will go away simply because we are no longer married.

And being at the point where I can almost exit the ride is truly a relief. I’m still sad. I’m still angry. There are days I still ache for my husband to return. But, I’ve come to accept there are things that I cannot change. And, I am moving on. I have been able to shift the majority of my grief into pity. Pity for the man he’s become. Because, he is pitiful.


“D” Day

So, tomorrow is supposedly “D” day. I’ve had so many false “D” day predictions that I’m not sure if I believe it or not.

Could this actually be the last day I am married to him? Is it really, finally, over?

So much has transpired, and I know I can (and would) never go back. Everything I thought I knew about him was false. His values, his morals, his love for his family…all lies. The selfishness in this person I spent half my life with is astounding and still takes my breath away at times. I’m working toward forgiving him on a daily basis; however, forgiveness and forgetting are two different things. I don’t know why people insist on lumping them together.

Still, I sometimes stop and wonder where that boy with the beautiful eyes who made my heart skip so many beats went. I wonder if he ever tries to look out of those eyes, the ones that are still beautiful, but so cold and dead now. I wonder if he’s still in there, somewhere, mourning what he has forced us to lose, what he allowed himself to forget and throw away. I wonder what he thinks about himself for letting this man take over and ruin our lives. I wonder if he has any feelings at all. I wonder if he’s in there.

But, I think not. I think he’s dead.

I think if he was still in there, regardless of what ever became of the marriage that we embarked upon, he would NEVER treat his children the way this man has. He would stand up and put them first. But, this man has done none of that. He has done his best to put himself first. In EVERY situation. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

So, as he sits pretty in the house he allowed his mother and father to buy for him, as his children lost their childhood home, as he continues to perpetuate his lies and tell everyone how much he supports us, as he continues to try to avoid to pay what he owes, and as he continues posting and boasting about his affair on Facebook, I continue to grow stronger. I continue to find ways to let my children know, every day, how awesome and amazing they are. I continue to go to work, every day, and kick ass at my job. I continue to heal, every day, and rebuild my life into a thing a beauty that he cannot touch. I continue to count my blessings, every day, and realize that no matter how bleak things appear at times I am beyond blessed.

I have taken a long, deep look in a reflecting pool. I’ve examined myself, dug deep. And you know what? I realized he forgot who he married. But, more importantly, I realized that he wasn’t the only person who forgot who he married. I forgot who he married. I forgot what an amazing woman he landed. I forgot how strong she was and how giving she was and how talented she was. I forgot that she was valued and valuable. I chose to listen to the lies that were being whispered to my soul. I let the doubt settle in and become a cancer. I chose to believe the worst happened because I deserved no better.

The cruelest way to part with someone is to make them think it was their fault when it wasn’t. When you’ve already made the decision and there is nothing they can do to change anything. To tell them you are “finding” yourself, when you’ve already found yourself in the arms of another.  And he was cruel to me. Very, very cruel.

So, whether “D” day happens tomorrow, or not, I’ve come to realize that it is only a piece of paper. He divorced me the day he allowed that boy to die. It just took me this long to realize it. My grief was long, and very strong. It nearly did me in, and I nearly let it. I may be amazing, but, I’m not special. There is nothing extraordinary about me. If I can make it through this kind of hell, then anyone can. The trick is to do it one day at a time. The milestone days are every day…not just days like “D” day.