We both knew our marriage had to end, yet here I was at the courthouse, alone, sitting in front of the magistrate confirming that I didn’t want alimony but I wanted my name back.
I was so angry at you. I’ve been angry with you. We both agreed, didn’t we? You filed your answer. So why I was ending my marriage, alone? Why was I texting you, worried that they wouldn’t proceed with the hearing without filing your response and acknowledgement that, that day was in fact, the day, but you wouldn’t be there?
And now, here you are – you’ve moved on and while I’m elated, you’re continuing to make my life difficult. Why do I have to search my name in case files to find out you’re incapable of paying your rent? Isn’t providing a home for your son or at the least, maintaining your job of the utmost priority? Is taking your new girlfriend out for lavish dates more important because you know that financially, I am obligated to continue to support you? If I had half the mind and ALL of the petty, I would contact her and let her know it’s her turn to financially support you. I’ve been doing it since the day I met you. The day I chose to uplift and support you but when the day came for you to do the same, you looked down on me. Wondering where the magic had gone, somehow oblivious to the fact that you sucked it and my life away.
I think you find some solace in knowing that my capacity to care is next to none. That I have no desire to rip you to shreds, tell you about yourself now that I’ve come back up from the waves you held me under. I think you find some solace in the fact that the grown males I’ve chosen have been complete duds. We shared a good laugh the day after your no show over a grown male I chose to call out – but you know me, I LOVE a good “Gotcha!” But what you don’t know is that I feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for you because you’re still chasing after companionship in an effort to no longer be alone.
I feel sorry for you because you still lack the strength to tell someone when it’s not working for you; you’d rather stay stuck.
I am someone different now – I’m stronger, I’m healthier, but most importantly I am stable. I learned to rely on my own strength to get through one of the toughest of times, because so few people even know about what happened, I dealt with all of that alone. I know I am a force to be reckoned with now. But even though you don’t know me anymore, even though we owe each other nothing, you at least could’ve faced me on that day.
We could’ve ended this with our heads held high. Instead, I walked away feeling defeated and I wonder if that was your plan all along.
One last letdown for the road…
BITD is a blog designed to educate on mental illness and maintain mental wellness through personal experiences.