Why are you doing it now?
Why are you being the best version of yourself now?
Why are you being all of the things I so desperately wanted you to be when it’s too late?
Why are you being the man I married for someone else instead of being it for me in the years gone by?
Did you need me to step back so you could learn to stand on your own two feet again?
Did you need me to push so you could make the shove?
Are you doing it to hurt me?
Are you doing it out of anger, frustration and bitter disappointment?
Are you living up to the new tattoo and demonstrating your bravery in the best way you know how to?
I did everything.
I ran a house around you – I cooked, I cleaned, I bubbled with frustration at how your contribution didn’t add up to 50%.
I raised our son. I took him to baby groups, I battled with nap time, I crammed batch cooking baby food into my free five minutes while you sat on the sofa.
I struggled on my own. I cried lonely tears, I vented anger to no one, I bottled it up, I broke myself.
I did early mornings followed by 12-hour days which left no time for us afterwards.
I looked after the baby while you left the house to look after yourself.
I stood the guilt trip whenever I grabbed some time away from the house. I took the stone, cold, silences, the judgement and the building resentment when I just wanted a taste of freedom and a much-needed break.
I dealt with the comments about me and who I had become.
That wasn’t sustainable. The inevitable happened. When conversation dried up and we couldn’t talk any more, the only option for me was to leave.
And yet, in the blink of an eye, you’re transformed. Superman has ditched the glasses and donned a metaphorical cape and now you’re flying high. It took you no time at all to do it when I am the one still emotionally cutting myself in the recovery position.
It will get easier, one way or another. I am not sure that our friendship which I so dearly wanted to hold onto for our son’s sake will happen. I will move on and get up in the clouds again too. And we will be friendly, but not friends.
Our marriage means nothing to you now. So, ex-husband, fly high, but don’t forget to look down once in a while.
This article has been written anonymously, all thoughts and opinions remain the authors own and do not necessarily reflect the sentiments of Sareta.
Images used bare no association with the author or narrative, and are for illustrative purposes only.