You left me boundaries of pain~ Emily Dickinson
Capacious as the sea,
Between eternity and time,
Your consciousness and me.
There are words you think you will never hear and others you believe shall never dare grace your lips or fingertips.
For me, this month has been filled with a cavalcade of both.
On the afternoon of July 4, 2022, seemingly out of the blue, my husband (Tony) left me and ended our marriage.
In a matter of a few sentences, he said that he no longer feels romantic love for me, wants a swift divorce, and that our shared home is to be sold ASAP.
Had a meteorite plummeted from the heavens and fallen on my head, I would have been less surprised.
That at least could have been explained by science.
This… this makes zero sense.
Up until the moment that those life-shattering sentences were uttered, I would have told you with the utmost conviction that our love was deeper and our relationship stronger than ever before.
I have never been unfaithful, and I genuinely believe that Tony has not either.
Like most couples, we have had our ups and downs, disagreements and tiffs over the years, but they were usually few and far between (and were normally quickly resolved or simply moved beyond when they did occur).
As far as I know, (up until now) neither of us wanted to radically overhaul or change our lives, move to a different part of the country/world, switch career paths, or anything substantial like that.
There has never been any abuse whatsoever of any kind perpetrated by either party.
Likewise, neither of us has (or has ever had) a substance abuse, drinking, or gambling problem (or any other serious vice or addiction).
Looking in from an outsider’s perspective, I understand that this situation, therefore, makes little to no sense.
Believe me, as the person on the receiving end of the lightning-fast death blow of my marriage, no one gets that better than I do.
I have only vagaries to go on at present and so am just about as in the dark as everyone else right now.
I loved – and continue to love – Tony with every ounce of my being. We have been together since 2004, marrying a mere seven months after we met in October of that same year (a beautiful love story that I detailed here).
Through countless trials and tribulations, times tougher than a kodiak bear, and moments when the only thing that made our happiness greater was magnifying it off of the other person, we stuck together, always growing closer and stronger as a cohesive unit.
I do not know what exactly changed in Tony and I will not theorize as to such publicly.
No matter what he may do or how profoundly he has altered both of our lives, I hold him dearer to me than words could ever fully convay.
Naturally, I have offered to do just about anything to try and fix us.
Considering that I did not know we were in trouble – let alone broken – I cannot overstate how much I would go to the ends of the earth to make us whole again. To try couples counselling, to attempt a trial separation period, to move homes, anything I can possibly think of, but these are not paths Tony is currently open to venturing down together.
At present, the door to my heart remains wide open to the possibility – however slim – of us reuniting. That said, while I keep that door open, please know that I understand and accept that more likely than not, he may never cross its threshold again.
As you might imagine, my life has been completely turned on its head. On top of the mental and physical agony that I am in at the moment, I have been thrust out into the world on my own for the first time in eighteen years.
In the process working at breakneck speed to handle the legal and myriad pragmatic sides of being jarringly separated from the man I believed I would forever call my husband.
Flipflopping between the worst emotional pain of my life and the continued shock that still teeters on numbness at times, I have been navigating the waters of getting my legal affairs in order, searching for housing that I can somehow afford for myself and our dog (who will be living with me) in Canada’s third most expensive housing market, packing up our current home, and getting ready to list our house for sale this coming week.
Gone in the blink of an eye is living in the home we created together following the arson house fire that we experienced in October 2016. A cozy roof and four walls that held not only our day-to-day existence, but innumerable memories of times past paired with scores of hopes and dreams for the future.
A shared vision for our tomorrow that up until twenty days ago, I believed we would long continue to write together on the pages of history. Our hands holding the metaphorical pen in unison that would do so.
But sometimes the inkwell inexplicably gets tipped over or runs dry and the life you envisioned is now one you must mourn so as to somehow – some unfathomable how – find the ability to carry on when every breath, every heartbeat, every waking second hurts like death itself.
For the end of any serious relationship – be it a marriage or otherwise – is unquestionably a form of death.
Sometimes the end is a long time coming.
In others, such as this, it proves to be the most shocking and unforeseen event that may ever happen to a person.
For me, it is the latter (and I am very much factoring the arson fire into that statement).
Tony wasn’t just my husband, he was my very best friend. My greatest source of comfort and support, my rock, my calm in the perpetual storm that is life, my biggest cheerleader, my reason to smile no matter what life threw our way, my soulmate… my everything.
Just as I am certain in my heart of hearts that I was for him as well. If not for the whole, then for very nearly the entire eighteen magical years we experienced together.
I don’t know where we went wrong, because I truly did not believe anything was seriously amiss – let alone (again) to such a profound degree. Perhaps I will never know – the onus of answers lies squarely on my beloved’s shoulders.
Like many of us, I have weathered my fair share of serious challenges and losses over the years. From becoming a multi-chronic illness fighter in my teens to the aforementioned fire and many others, life has thrown so many curveballs at me that I could probably play in the Major Leagues at this point.
This, however, is the swiftest, hardest, and most difficult thus far in my 38 years on earth.
That said, no matter how much the mere act of existing hurts at a cellular level right now, I believe I will find a way to keep going. To start over once again.
Doing so without a penny or an asset to my name, and – due to the severity of my chronic health problems – with, at best, sporadic self-employment. (Note, as per our separation agreement, I will be receiving monthly alimony payments for a number of years provided Tony remains employed, but will still be doing everything in my power to generate additional income so as to meet my most important basic daily living and medical expenses.)
My marriage is over, and I am in the throes of grief unlike any I have ever known. Yet dawn follows even the darkest eve and surely, somehow, I will get through this living nightmare and the indescribable heartache that accompanies it.
Due to the massive number of serious challenges I am facing and tackling at present, it is impossible for me to keep publishing fresh content here right now.
As such, from today onward, I am putting this blog (Witchcrafted Life) on what I hope beyond hope will be a temporary – not permanent – hiatus as I deal with everything that the abrupt and wholly unforeseen end of a marriage entails.
Whether to return (be it at my usual posting pace or a more reduced one) or to simply provide you with an update on how things are going in my life, I will do my best to post here at some point in the coming fall months (potentially October or November).
Much as I will not be creating new blog content (or craft projects for that matter), I cannot realistically see staying abreast of + commenting on other peoples’ sites in the near future. My heartfelt apologies about that to those whose blogs I regularly visit.
As I have told Tony in the wake of this devastating situation, over the course of the past eighteen years we were blessed to share together, all I have ever wanted – and still want – is for him to be happy, healthy, content/fulfilled, and loved.
Until July 4th of this year, I believed those things would continue to happen in no small part through our life together.
If Tony thinks he is able to do so to a greater degree in a new life that he creates for himself, then with genuine love in my heart – no matter how much it pains me to say goodbye – I hope that he experiences each of those things all the more and is able to find whatever it is he felt/feels our marriage was no longer providing him with at this point in time.
For every tear that has fallen from my exhausted eyes over the past three weeks (they feel as though they must number in the millions by now), I will forever have the gift of an infinitely larger number of cherished, happy, soulful memories from the course our marriage to look back on with the deepest of gratitude and affection.
There is nothing in existence that I would trade for the years we shared, the unforgettable times we experienced, and those very memories that were forged in the fires of our love.
Thank you, sweet friends, for allowing me to share a few humble paragraphs about this situation with each of you.
Until we connect again, please know that you will be fiercely missed, always appreciated, and wished a joyful summer-into-fall (or winter-into-spring if you are south of the equator).