Last night the rings came off.

When you think you’ve been happy for most of your thirty-four years together, only to find that the husband that left you is calling himself “finally happy” it’s more of a slap in the face than if you’d been physically assaulted.  To me, this has all been like a death.  Worse than a death, really.  And it has me questioning everything.  All the times he said “I love you”… all the cards professing undying love and how we were soul mates… how could I have believed it all for so long and thought it was real?  It seemed real.  But then how can it change so quickly and be as if it never happened?  And how can I ever trust anyone again after a betrayal like this?

Nobody wants to get old, but I always thought getting old with your best friend would be fine.  All the shared stories, shared memories… it’s part of what makes you happy with someone and able to smile.  Facing the world together, I thought that meant you could conquer anything.  Knowing that there is one person that understands you and has your back is huge.  Apparently I was wrong.

So, as much as I thought that a few weeks ago was my “new normal”, last night truly marked my new normal.  Because now I see it really was all a lie and this is truly the end and the beginning.  The indentation on my finger will be a constant reminder of the death of a marriage and the end of life as I knew it.

So how do I move on from this?  Unlike one who is “finally happy” I am faced with the uncertainty of whether I will be able to stay in the home I love and whether I will be able to keep the animals I love.  I have already given up some of them, including my beloved chickens.  Who knew that giving up the chickens would be like a little death inside?  I don’t know what the future holds.  I know that this kind of stress is not good for anyone, so I need to try to get on with life.  At the moment that seems like a very tall order.