This was the first time in 14 years that I had intentionally not slipped the ring on. And my hand felt pretty naked without it. But this is also the first time that I've heard the words, "I don't love you like a wife. I don't want to be married anymore." Those words, while not really surprising, came as a shock nonetheless. And even though deep down inside, I understand and feel kind of the same way, the tears came. He kept apologizing. That only made me cry harder, even as I tried to say I understand.
Later, alone in bed, trying to catch a few hours sleep before having to wake up for work at 1am, his words came back to me over and over again. And I started wondering what happened to turn him away. Was it because I gained so much weight when I was pregnant and never lost it? Was it because I worked nights for so long that we didn't have much time together? Was it because I switched to the overnight shift and was too exhausted to do anything when I got home? Was I too selfish? Did I neglect him? Did he meet someone else? I asked him if there was anyone else and he said no. But don't people always say that? I don't know. I know that I could never have an affair, but that's me. But then again, I don't think anyone would give me a second look. And now, I face a future alone. As I wrote those words, the tears came again, hot and heavy. I'm afraid of that future. I'm not young. I'm not attractive. And boy, do I have a lot of baggage. No one will want to take that on.
So I brace myself. I have traveled this road alone before. I can do it again. Of course, I'm not truly alone. I have my son, who will split his time equally with both of us. For that, I'm grateful. I'm grateful that I don't face a long, bitter fight. We're not enemies. We're just not lovers. We're more like roommates who care about each other very much. I was willing to live with it. It wasn't bad. In fact, it was comfortable. But he can not live with it. And so he must go.
He says he's not in a hurry. In fact, he wants us to stay in the same house until the end of the year, at least. Maybe even longer. He doesn't want us to change our Facebook relationship status. The only sign that this marriage is over - the lack of jewelry on the third finger of our left hands. He says he lost his wedding band a couple of months ago. I believe him because he's never lied. I know exactly where my wedding ring is. It's sitting on the bathroom vanity, the diamond glittering in the silver setting. Icy, like my heart.
