1 year ago I had reached the end of my patience. I ended up spending the entire weekend silently crying. I was exhausted. I couldn’t do it anymore. My husband didn’t understand what he had done to us and to me. He didn’t seem to care.
So I decided to have a serious chat on Sunday evening. I had spoken to my therapist about a temporary separation, to see if that would help, seeing as we’d tried every other option.
After a very heated couple of hours discussing logistics, my husband ended the conversation by packing his bags and leaving. All he said was I’ll move back in one month.
That night our pet hamster died.
It was tense, the next weekend was my graduation from university for my post graduate degree.
My family didn’t know this was happening.
For the first week he popped over every other evening so we could have some time together, but only for a few hours. One evening he got very annoyed with me because I had cleaned and put his things away.
He stopped coming over.
We still had couples therapy. However, he started shouting at me during one session so I asked for 5 minutes out of the room. As I was having a breather, he left the building and shouted that he wasn’t returning.
He didn’t attend the next week. I didn’t hear from him. I text him saying therapy the next week would be our last one together, as I couldn’t afford to keep paying for it. I ended up having a couple of independent sessions which helped me feel that I was doing the right thing for my mental health.
Then December rocked up. It had been a month since he packed his things. He didn’t return. I rang him and asked if he wanted to talk, he said no.
After two weeks, I decided. This was the end. I had done everything I could. Our marriage was over.