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My Divorce Diary: Where It All Began

It recently dawned on me that I’ve never really shared how and when my marriage fell apart.  There was no knock down, drag out fight full of flying insults and hurtful name calling.  No smoking gun discovery in my bedroom.

Nope, the beginning of my end started with a phone call.  

A long distance phone call, at that. The children and I had just returned home from one of our bi-annual trips to London to visit my husband’s family. He stayed behind in London for a few extra days to take care of some business with our home there that we were renting out at the time. The day before his departure date, he called to say he wasn’t going to come back. He was unhappy, he said, and wanted to stay in London. I was numb. And in shock.

A few hours later, he called back to say he was, indeed, getting on his scheduled flight. And he did come home. But things were never the same. About a month later, on a sunny Saturday morning, he matter-of-factly declared, as he passed me coming out of the bathroom, “I am no longer participating in this marriage.”

What did that mean?

Could marriage be a spectator sport? Numbness and confusion again. And so began my pre-divorce dance. Within two months, he had moved out of our home, leaving me with my two, beautiful children and mountain of unanswered questions and roaring emotions.

What happened next is one helluva story.

Comments
One Response to “My Divorce Diary: Where It All Began”
  1. Kelly says:

    What happened next???

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