Paradise Lost

Through tears, I say the only thing I can think of, “I will never give up on us.”

With a blank stare, colder than I have ever seen, she responds, “There is no us.”

I stand there as the door is closed behind her. Those four small words took everything I thought my life was and flipped it completely off-axis. The world stills and everything fades into the background as I take in this new revelation.

When you spend over 12 years with a person, they become your best friend. At least that is what happened to me. Yes, there had been some disconnect in recent years due to the emotional turmoil we went through during infertility and trying to start a family, but I never foresaw this happening. I thought, naively, that our love could overcome anything.

It had been six years and countless hours of therapy since I had taken any form of anxiety medication yet here I was, frantically digging in my purse for my emergency Ativan. I couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t possibly be happening, could it?

I couldn't believe that we had been discussing buying a new home and taking a family vacation less than a month ago. Now I’m a single mother to toddlers and have no idea what happened. What changed? The better question is, why was I not given a say?

Three years prior, I experienced a miscarriage during our first IVF attempt. That was the last time I recall dealing with the overwhelming feeling of depression. Feeling like I am unable to function, think clearly or comprehend anything. The only motivation that gets me up when she leaves is the thought of my children. I worry about what all of this means for them. They are completely innocent in this situation and I never wanted them to grow up in a broken home. That's part of the reason why I waited so long to have children so that I could be in a place where I could provide them with all the love and attention they deserve, and with someone I knew I would spend my life with. I can’t help but laugh.

I feel empty as I replay the last 12 years of our life together in my head. Where did I go wrong? How was I completely oblivious? I can’t sleep. Surprising, given the fact that Ativan usually knocks me out from the severe drop in adrenaline experienced following a panic attack. Instead, I lay in our bed, numb, waiting to see when she would come home and hoping we can talk.

1:03 am. She finally crawls into bed. I still don’t sleep. On top of my mind reeling from what just happened to my life, I wonder, where was she? I don’t even bother saying anything and just pretend I’m sleeping.

***

I wake up in the morning feeling like a zombie, going through the motions of getting my children ready for daycare and myself ready for work. She barely talks to me as we drop them off and make our way back home to finish getting ready for work ourselves. The only thing that morning that I can, without doubt, say brings me genuine happiness and joy is the pure and unconditional love that I receive from my children.

“I already got my stuff from the house, I won’t be coming back in.” It’s the first full sentence that she has spoken to me and those traitorous tears well in my eyes even though I am doing everything in my power to remain strong. 

I get out of the car and I’m at a loss for words. Crossing the street, relying on my memory, I try my best not to let the tears flow until I reach the safety of my house. Unfortunately, the recent dusting of snow had hidden the patches of ice on the ground and I slip and fall, hitting my head on the ice, and sending my glasses flying. Lying there, I feel a sense of detachment from my body, and the tears that I had been holding back finally burst forth. It is a moment of sheer despair and self-pity, realizing that today is the day I have to accept what was happening.

I couldn't make it through my workday. I had hoped that keeping my mind occupied would help me forget about the shit show of my life. However, after only a couple of hours, I realized that the constant need to explain things to my co-workers and the frequent emotional breakdowns were not going to stop. So, I decided to head back home. Nothing better than wallowing in my anguish safely tucked in bed, right?

Days pass by like I’m fast-forwarding my television and not taking anything in. My mind is a jumbled mess of memories, thoughts, and regrets. Like a switch being turned on, the crushing weight of heartbreak slowly turns into a deep burning rage. Rage at the situation, rage at the lack of communication, and rage ultimately at her. She may have had time to process this as she decided this in her own time, without my knowledge, or a chance for me to even have a say. The emotions are whirling around and it’s easier to rage, easier to feel anger over heartbreak. The rage makes it easier to wake up and focus on changing life as I know it as a family of 4 towards a family of 3. Single mom to toddlers. Single mom with drive and determination.

Social media is a slippery slope of emotion. Waking one day to find a plethora of messages asking if you’re ok. Not realizing that while you were sleeping, your world was upended again with a public declaration of a new partner. Twelve years erased in less than a month as if I never existed. As if I never mattered. The trust you once held so close for someone is erased. How does this happen so quickly if there was no one else? The respect you had given, was obliterated in one post. One-click of a button without any thought or care for the fallout.

This is the day you finally realize, that the paradise life you once thought you had is lost and can never be redeemed.