When we got married, I thought, I love him so much, I will never ever want to live without him.
We were both products of divorce, but we were convinced that our parents, and any other divorced couple, truly didn't love each other as much as we truly did when we got married. Everyone else wasn't us. We were different and I had no comprehension of how we could ever be otherwise.
I filed for that impossible divorce on January 3, 2015. I won't go into any of his faults here. He had plenty of blame, but this is about my own failings and self-reflection, not finger-pointing to anyone else. I have spent my recent time self-reflecting my role in how we fell from our infallible perch in one small decade.
We met at military training in Ft. Sam Houston, TX in 2004. I was his training squad leader, he was my problematic and talkative, but sweet, soldier. Our friendship grew to flirtation grew to me crying on graduation day when he said we'd never see each other again. I kept in touch and saw him a month later in GA, where he went for training. I saw him again on leave in WA, when I met his family, and I kept flying to see him until we eloped in Ft. Stewart, GA, on April 29, 2005. We were always holding hands and laughing, cuddling and kissing and being more obnoxious than we intended to the rest of the world. Once, on a Greyhound ride to Atlanta on the last time I would see him before his first deployment, an older black man in the seats behind us told us to "be careful, or you'll run all out of kisses." We laughed, like that would ever happen to us. It became a cute inside joke for years. That kind of love lasted through 2 deployments, 2 babies, a new house, and a cross country move. I wouldn't grow to deeply resent him for a few years.
When he came home from his second, and much more difficult, deployment and left the Army all together in 2008, I had unrealistic expectations of what he would do. I expected him to love staying home with the kids, but he barely knew them. I expected him to get a great war hero type job, but he wanted to rest. I expected him to fix the house and mow the lawn but he had never done any of those things before. So my own silent expectations - that I never told him about because I thought he should just KNOW to do them - became resentment and disdain against him for being who he always was.
Resentment is a poison in relationships. As I got more disappointed in him, he became frustrated with me so I got quieter and more complacent around him and he called me cold and distant among many other names. Soon, we only liked each other when we drank, but some of our biggest fights were after we had too much. We spiraled for years into disgust, jealousy, secrecy, and a very apathetic attitude that only gave us both fuel to use against the other.
When I was in love with my husband the first 5 years, I thought, I don't even remember what it's like to have crushes on other guys. I had been so infatuated for so long that when I saw an attractive person, I had no feelings beyond acknowledgement of their symmetrical features. In the second half, all I saw were better options. Guys who were better dads, better husbands, better soldiers, in better shape, funnier, smarter, cooler, than my husband. All I did was compare and I spent more time finding the glimmers of greatness in other guys than I did my own. So in year 9, after I had already brought the D word into a fight and therefore, into the realm of possibilities, when my high school ex boyfriend found me on Facebook and asked for "help" since he just got out of the Navy and heard I worked for the VA, I was more than happy to find the best in him.
We flirted online without REALLY flirting for months - inside jokes, "remember when" conversations, random compliments that make you smile. Enough so I got butterflies when I saw his name on my screen, but not so much that I considered what I was doing cheating. Eventually, he said it would be easier if we could go over the options in person. I said we could meet for lunch nearby where I worked. When I saw him, all the fireworks came back. It felt like electricity and I knew he felt the same. The smiling I couldn't stop, the magnetism like I could only feel good when I was close to him, when we hugged goodbye (nothing else happened) I had butterflies through the rest of the day. I remembered all those feelings I hadn't had in so long and now, all I wanted was to have them again. That meeting flipped a switch to where I actively chose to find ways out of my failing marriage rather than fighting for reasons to stay in the same one that was fighting for air.
I started loudly telling people all the bad stuff in our marriage that I had kept hidden for a while. The stories of our fights and disdain were all from my side. No one was defending him, especially not himself. It was all selectively true, but it changed the lens my friends saw us through. At some point, they had all witnessed his ugly side and it only validated my perspective. By the end of the year, everyone was telling me to get a divorce. I reluctantly agreed and bravely filed.
I would spend the next 4 months going on dates again and feeling butterflies, with the Navy ex and others, dreaming of a life away from this awful husband who kept begging me to stay. I called him obsessed and smothering. I told him we were toxic to each other. When he made promises to be better, I told him to be better for someone else. I was beyond done.
On divorce day, April 1, 2015, I cried all morning. I left work because I couldn't stop crying. I listened to Radiohead and cried in my car. I cried at the courthouse. He was so sad, he cried in the morning as he was begging me not to do it, then didn't even show up. I showed up and I cried. None of the new guys or the butterflies were there to console me, just my lawyer who reminded me of the remainder due on my payment plan and left for her next case.
I left there legally single and never feeling more alone.
We were both products of divorce, but we were convinced that our parents, and any other divorced couple, truly didn't love each other as much as we truly did when we got married. Everyone else wasn't us. We were different and I had no comprehension of how we could ever be otherwise.
I filed for that impossible divorce on January 3, 2015. I won't go into any of his faults here. He had plenty of blame, but this is about my own failings and self-reflection, not finger-pointing to anyone else. I have spent my recent time self-reflecting my role in how we fell from our infallible perch in one small decade.
When he came home from his second, and much more difficult, deployment and left the Army all together in 2008, I had unrealistic expectations of what he would do. I expected him to love staying home with the kids, but he barely knew them. I expected him to get a great war hero type job, but he wanted to rest. I expected him to fix the house and mow the lawn but he had never done any of those things before. So my own silent expectations - that I never told him about because I thought he should just KNOW to do them - became resentment and disdain against him for being who he always was.
When I was in love with my husband the first 5 years, I thought, I don't even remember what it's like to have crushes on other guys. I had been so infatuated for so long that when I saw an attractive person, I had no feelings beyond acknowledgement of their symmetrical features. In the second half, all I saw were better options. Guys who were better dads, better husbands, better soldiers, in better shape, funnier, smarter, cooler, than my husband. All I did was compare and I spent more time finding the glimmers of greatness in other guys than I did my own. So in year 9, after I had already brought the D word into a fight and therefore, into the realm of possibilities, when my high school ex boyfriend found me on Facebook and asked for "help" since he just got out of the Navy and heard I worked for the VA, I was more than happy to find the best in him.
We flirted online without REALLY flirting for months - inside jokes, "remember when" conversations, random compliments that make you smile. Enough so I got butterflies when I saw his name on my screen, but not so much that I considered what I was doing cheating. Eventually, he said it would be easier if we could go over the options in person. I said we could meet for lunch nearby where I worked. When I saw him, all the fireworks came back. It felt like electricity and I knew he felt the same. The smiling I couldn't stop, the magnetism like I could only feel good when I was close to him, when we hugged goodbye (nothing else happened) I had butterflies through the rest of the day. I remembered all those feelings I hadn't had in so long and now, all I wanted was to have them again. That meeting flipped a switch to where I actively chose to find ways out of my failing marriage rather than fighting for reasons to stay in the same one that was fighting for air.
I started loudly telling people all the bad stuff in our marriage that I had kept hidden for a while. The stories of our fights and disdain were all from my side. No one was defending him, especially not himself. It was all selectively true, but it changed the lens my friends saw us through. At some point, they had all witnessed his ugly side and it only validated my perspective. By the end of the year, everyone was telling me to get a divorce. I reluctantly agreed and bravely filed.I would spend the next 4 months going on dates again and feeling butterflies, with the Navy ex and others, dreaming of a life away from this awful husband who kept begging me to stay. I called him obsessed and smothering. I told him we were toxic to each other. When he made promises to be better, I told him to be better for someone else. I was beyond done.
On divorce day, April 1, 2015, I cried all morning. I left work because I couldn't stop crying. I listened to Radiohead and cried in my car. I cried at the courthouse. He was so sad, he cried in the morning as he was begging me not to do it, then didn't even show up. I showed up and I cried. None of the new guys or the butterflies were there to console me, just my lawyer who reminded me of the remainder due on my payment plan and left for her next case.I left there legally single and never feeling more alone.
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