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.