Monday, 31 January 2011

His stuff is gone.

Exactly two weeks after the initial argument (and we are catching up now with 'real' time as this was on Friday, and now it's the following Monday) dh picked up the keys to his new flat.  About 1/4 mile or so away from our house - an easy walk.

I can't quite believe how quickly everything has happened.  My head is still spinning, and I'm only just coming out of what I believe to be a state of shock.

I sent him a list by email, room by room, of all his items and anything he might want.  He replied with a yes/no/maybe after each item, then asked me to pack up his stuff.

I was in two minds about whether to do this, but in the end decided I'd rather do it myself than have him wandering around the house for hours, in and out of drawers etc while the children watched.  Or while we were all out.

It amounted to a few boxes and a couple of items of furniture, a few pictures, paperwork and so on.  As a result the house pretty much looks the same.

On Friday I was overcome with emotion and lay in the bath for 1/2 an hour just quietly sobbing.  I had felt a build up of grief and sorrow, it was almost physical in that it was a gradually building pain and throbbing in my head, and it was relieved after I had had a good cry.  I know there is a long way to go yet for the grieving process over this marriage, and I can feel it will be a slow process.

Dh then came over to pick up a few things such as spare bedding for his flat.  He stood in our bedroom and looked at a photo in a frame of us together and looked at me, welling up.  I had only stopped sobbing in the bath about an hour before and was feeling slightly peaceful so I just looked away.  He then looked at me with a look like 'you heartless cow' because I wasn't joining in the welling up about him moving out.  I felt such a surge of rage!  How dare HE be even crying!  All he has ever needed to do was stop being abusive and we could have had a happy marriage and life as a family.  Instead he has dragged me/our kids/ us through the wringer for fourteen years and here he stands self-righteously pitying himself and offended that I'm not joining in.  I ignored him, though, and went downstairs to stand by the door waiting for him to leave.

On Saturday dh came round to pick up the furniture and boxes with his friend.  This was incredibly awkward because they were mucking about, making jokes and laughing and I just wanted them out of the house.  They were making jokes about divorce courts, and 'who get's what'.  It might have been a coping strategy, but I doubt it, knowing them.  It was so inappropriate, all the children where there.  I wondered where that heartbroken man from the night before was...

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I appreciate all your comments, advice and support.

R
xx