It was already 9:30 by the time I got home from my class Thursday night, and all I wanted to do was go to sleep. I walked through the door, a bit apprehensively, and knew that there would be trouble when my husband told me he was glad that I was home. That's just not something you expect to hear from someone you've told you want a divorce.
And so, I was launched into yet another hour-long tirade on why I no longer wanted to be with him, except this time, he'd pushed my buttons and I could no longer keep calm. I was angry. And I finally used the words I hadn't wanted to use - that I didn't love him anymore. He still persisted, claiming that if we just tried therapy... I told him no. It wouldn't work. My mind was made up. I want this to be over with so badly, so that I can move on. To what? I don't know. To who? Who knows. To where? Maybe somewhere else - considering my job situation, now might be a perfect time to relocate. In the end, I finally got to sleep around 11:00, though I didn't sleep well. I haven't been sleeping well since I got home from vacation a week and a half ago.
Last night, my husband stayed out after work to get drinks with a mutual friend, and was planning on just spending the night there. I found out a few things in his absence: he's begun to look for someone else, as his user name was already typed in when I brought up Match.com on his computer, and I also saw that he didn't wear his ring yesterday, which is fine as I haven't worn mine in about two months, but noticed he had kept wearing his. Does this mean he's finally accepting the truth? God, I hope so.
I am becoming an emotional mess. I guess this was expected. And I know it will get better. I just have to ride it out.
-- baby girl
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