Guys Are Unserious

It was about a year ago when I noticed my husband starting to pull away. One morning, after he slept in the basement, again, I asked him what was going on. He told me, very simply, that he wasn’t in love with me anymore.

Yikes. I had just received a huge promotion at work, my student loans were forgiven, and our kids, 3 & 6, were becoming more independent every day. We had a beautiful home with a beautiful yard, three dogs, two happy and healthy kids. Finally. Our lives were perfect. And then, BAM! My perfect life crumbled before my eyes.

After fighting for the man that I thought was the love of my life with little success, I finally resigned to letting him go. He moved out in January (the same week my grandma died and our son was in the ER for breathing issues) and I went spiraling into a deep deep depression. Whenever the kids were with their dad, I curled up on the couch and spent my time in something like a fever dream. I’d cry, sleep, watch sad movies and repeat.

It was what a needed. I couldn’t let go of this man who told me he still loved me, he was still attracted to me, and that he still liked spending time with me. Isn’t that what a happy marriage was? Love, attraction, and joy in spending time together? I couldn’t let go of my perfect life either. The life we promised our kids we would give them. I couldn’t accept our kids growing up in a broken family. But alas, after several attempts at therapy, we were kicked out because he refused to talk. All my hope was slowly diminishing.

Fast forward to June. Summer was starting and I thought that the nice weather will at least boost my spirits. Wrong. Our beloved dog who we had for over 15 years had a very short-lived fight with lymphoma. I held my bubs one more time, as I had for the previous months, and sobbed into his neck as he crossed the rainbow bridge. I was devastated. More devastated than I was when my husband moved out. So, that told me something. And that was the start of our journey to being amicable.

We buried our bubs in my yard and planted a tree to remember him. I still think of him every day, but this was so healing for me and for our family. It made me realize that we could still be a family, but it would look different than I had thought it would. We didn’t have to be a “broken” family. We could be whatever we wanted to be.

It was smooth sailing and with lots of therapy, I started to feel… okay-ish? But then, as to be expected, came a big bump in the road.