the end

E and I moved to our apartment this past weekend. We had only ourselves to get the job done, and it nearly killed the both of us; I'm gonna be sore for a week. Today we closed on the house.

Yesterday, as I was packing up the last remnants of twenty-five years of marriage - sixteen of them in that house - I came across our photo albums. I opened a cabinet and there they were. I picked one up and started to put it in a box and started crying. Deep, sobbing heart hurting crying. I initiated our divorce and I'm still convinced it was the right thing to do, but we were married twenty-five years. Twenty-five years. We had a life together, it wasn't all bad. We raised a fine son together, we had pets, took trips and vacations....we had a life - together. Now its gone.

I'd been told by friends who have been through divorce that there would be moments of doubt and regret, pain and second guessing. I didn't doubt them, but until yesterday, I hadn't really experienced much of any of those things. I sat down on the floor of our empty bedroom, in the house we had spent most of our life together in and I cried like a baby for half and hour. It hurt. Then I called a friend who has been with me throough all of this and I cried some more. She listened, she comforted me. She was just there - and that was enough. Friends are wonderful gifts that I try never to underestimate the value of. They are few and precious. To that friend, for yesterday - thank you.

I'll probably go to pieces again before this is all overwith, but I cannot turn back now. I know its the right thing to do.