The Dust Settles

Yesterday, when getting the news about my job, I asked my department chair if I should keep quiet about it or if it would spread like wild fire throughout the school.  We both thought the latter might happen.  It did.

At 8:15 yesterday morning, one of my juniors showed up at my door with a sad look on her face.  She told me to tell her that it wasn't true.  I couldn't lie - I wouldn't lie to her - so I confirmed what she had heard.  Throughout the day, I began to feel like I was wearing a scarlet letter - a 'U' for Unemployed, or an 'E' for Eliminated.  It was awkward and uncomfortable.  Some of my other students asked me about it, and I told them the truth.  It was a sad day.  But it was also a 'senior cut day', so I have no doubt that when I go to work today, I'll have to confirm it for however many more students that weren't in school to hear it yesterday.  Oy.

Finally, it came time to go home.  I was tense when I walked through the door, for Mike was home already and I wasn't sure how things would be between us.  But he was pleasant, and started talking about things.  He told me he'd called the realtor just to get an idea of what we could sell the house for if we decided to take that route.  We talked about a few other things, and then I realized that he was still thinking that we could work things out.  I stood my ground, and in the end, the conversation turned into a forty-five minute recall of every reason I had for wanting the divorce.  He sat there, staring quietly at me, as I cried, reliving the pain I felt when he lost his job and shut me out... for a year... ignoring me, everyday.  That was, after all, one of the main reasons for my feelings changing.  That's when things began to deteriorate.

I also confronted the things he had said the night before, when I had initially told him.  That I was running away, and that I came from two dysfunctional households.  I spoke of my conflicted relationship with my father, and things that had happened that I had had to deal with at a very young age.  I told him that my parents might not have been living together, but that they were still in love, and I had to defend them.  He asked why they separated, and I told him about my mother, and the MS, and the medication she was on that made her unbearable at times.  I relived pain that I hadn't felt in years and as I stood there sobbing, he just stared.

It was so painful.  He was adament that it wasn't too late.  I stood my ground that it was.  I told him my feelings for him had changed, that the attraction for him wasn't there anymore.  I don't want to hurt him, but he has begun to leave me no choice.  I all but told him I don't love him anymore, but those words will only escape my lips when I am left with no other choice.  Unfortunately, that time might come sooner than later.

Finally, when I thought I wasn't capable of shedding more tears, I told him I needed to eat something and offered to go get food.  I needed to get out of the house, and didn't want him offering to come along, so it was a selfish move, I suppose.  The next twenty-five minutes were spent sobbing hysterically as I drove to the mall, because it was Cinco de Mayo and I wanted a burrito.  I also wanted someone to hold me and tell me that everything was going to be okay.  I wanted my parents.  Somebody.  Anybody.  Just not him.

I don't think it's registered with him yet that my mind won't change.  I just have to stand my ground and stick to my guns.  Let's hope this doesn't last too long.

-- baby girl