Last night my husband told me he wasn’t in love with me but he thought he was in love with his girlfriend. We both went to bed angry and hurt and haven’t spoken much since.
This may sound awful but familiar… after all, marriages end all the time. But the truth is I have known about his girlfriend since February. I have known he has wanted a divorce since November.
He moved out at the very beginning of March – only for the worldwide pandemic to hit immediately after.
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It played out as the perfect, chaotic-but-distant backdrop to the cycle of emotional decimation and resilience that was separating from my husband of 20 years, supporting our children through it, starting a new part-time job, consulting lawyers and keeping my stress levels as low as possible because I also happen to have been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis two years ago.
I was finally on an even keel emotionally. With medication and support from a psychologist, distraction at work, emotional and wine-filled circling from my girlfriends far and wide and lots of at-distant communication in bite-size chunks with my ex, I was accepting.
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