A week before Mothering Sunday, I barely managed to escape the courthouse. Tears blurred my vision, and in my mind, one sentence echoed over and over: You are no longer husband and wife.
I couldnt fathom why he had done this to me. What sins had I committed to deserve such punishment?
I married when I was just eighteen, swept up in a whirlwind romancethose were sleepless nights and days filled with a feeling of floating above the ground. Our first five years together seemed wonderful, and his love felt constant and sure. I did everything for him: I brought his breakfast to bed each morning, cooked only the meals he liked, and made sure our home was always tidy and welcoming.
Yet his parents never accepted me. They constantly reminded him that I wasnt good enough for their son, and hinted incessantly that he deserved a better wife. Slowly but surely, this took root in his mindI could see his attitude toward me growing colder, his tone sharper and more dismissive with each passing day.
Our little boy was five at the time. My husband had once doted on him, showering him with affection, but gradually, he too became distant and indifferent. I suspected my in-laws, who whispered venomous doubts into his ear and suggested our son was not his own (though the boy was practically his fathers mirror). Soon, my husband spent most of his time with them, almost as if hed moved in. When he did return home, it was only to complain and shout at me. Still, I tried to keep the peace, take care of myself, and tend our home.
One day, in a fit of rage, he struck me. I couldnt believe what was happening, but in my heart, I still clung to hope that things would mend. Not long after, he told me he was finished with me and meant to leave. He abandoned our son and me both. I pleaded with him to reconsider, to think of our family, but he refused to listen.
Even after the divorce, my feelings for him did not simply disappear; I struggled to picture my life without him. Though he contributes a scant allowance for our son, he insists on seeing every receipt, even for a loaf of bread. Each penny I spend must be accounted for, and I am left to beg for what our child needs from a man who has lost all sense of responsibility.
He visits our son rarely, and on the odd occasion he takes him for a day or two, its clear our boy feels uncomfortable and does not wish to go. My former husband is angry and accuses me of poisoning our sons mind against him. Yet the truth is, I cannot make peace with our separation and still find myself weeping daily. I have lost weight from worry, and the shadow of melancholy hangs over me. My grief sometimes spills over, and I raise my voice at my son though I know I shouldnt.
How does one carry on when ones heart is so heavy? Each day, I find myself looking through my ex-husbands social accounts, seeing glimpses of the life hes building without us. This is how I learned that he intends to remarry, news which only deepened my sadness.
I understand now why he rarely comes to see us and why our son no longer wants anything to do with him. My mind knows our story has ended, but my heart cannot accept it. How am I meant to find my way through this sorrow?
