Friday, June 25, 2010
My stepson is sitting beside me as I simultaneously force myself to wear the brave face and quell the overwhelming desire to break down and cry. I can’t believe I am doing this. Right now, I am driving the truck that contains all of my precious wife’s belongings that will go with her to her new apartment. Yes, I am helping her leave me.
Early this morning, we went and picked up the keys to her new place and she was excited. I was devastated, but she didn’t seem to get that. We’ve been married for about thirteen and a half years and I still have no idea how it came to this. Well, actually I do, but I’m still struggling with that. Yes, I messed up, and yes, I hurt her, but that was a long time ago. Why this? Why now?
She finally caught that I was upset and told me not to be. She said I should be happy for her and that she wants to celebrate. I knew she wanted to celebrate, but I couldn’t imagine what that would have to do with me. I said something to that effect and she told me that she wanted us to share the Champagne and strawberries together. That made me feel a little better, but it also confused me to no end. Why are we doing this? She says she needs time. She says she needs space. She says she needs to find herself and figure out what she wants.
I’m not stupid. I know that’s the kind of thing women say when they are having an affair, but that can’t be what’s happening here. Ceecee and I spend almost all of our time together, so she can’t be seeing anyone. I would know. Besides, she promised me years ago that would never happen and I believe her.
Anyway, we went and got the truck, loaded all her things, and now we’re getting close to the parking lot of her apartment building. How can I do this? Why am I doing this? Who helps his wife leave him? A guy who is crazy in love with her and has had his heart radically changed, I guess. That’s me. The guy who loves her more than his own life and would do anything for her.
The Restoration Tour 