Because He Was So Much, And Still Is

Maybe, since I'm letting at least a peek at my dirty laundry on this blog, if not a full frontal view, I should clarify a few things RE: He Who Was.

This is what I've decided, at least for now, to call the man who is still my husband, whether or not for very much longer.

Do I get angry with him? Yes, I do.

I also get so angry with myself that if I were capable of having a throwdown cage match with myself it would so be on.

Did he make poor choices in our marriage? Yes, he did.

And then I look at the choices I made and feel like vomiting.

Did he make the decision that he wants a divorce? Well, mostly.

But regardless of how I've denied wanting a divorce, the reality seems to be that there doesn't seem to be any way around it, not now, and perhaps he was just the first to face it head on.

He's not the bad guy. In fact, if you knew all the nitty gritty nasty details, a lot of people would probably label me as the greater of the two villains in our tale.

The sad, sordid truth is that we had a relationship that had certain flaws from the very beginning that we did not spot until it was too late. When we did spot them along the way, we did not do a good job--if we even tried at all--to tackle them. We developed destructive habits, destructive interactions, destructive behaviors. And we destroyed our marriage.

There was beauty along the way, too. It's very difficult for me right now to even think about them, all those wonderful memories, but they're there. Hopefully one day I'll be able to dig through the attic of my mind, pull them out from dusty trunks, page through the sepia photographs, run the flickering films. Someday.

I don't hate him, even if sometimes I wish I did. He doesn't hate me, even if sometimes he feels like he does. I still care about him. He still cares about me. But sometimes...Sometimes that isn't enough.

So we're both in incredible pain. Because we are, we keep hurting each other. We're trying to figure out how to stop.

So yes, the name "He Who Was" is a wistful name. That's how I feel about it, how I feel about him. Wistful.

And I'll leave it at that.