The first time you ever mentioned the word ‘divorce’, I felt my heart drop down heavy in my chest. I am sure I looked panicked, like I just stepped out in front of a speeding car and was waiting for impact. I couldn’t believe how we had gotten to this place – the place where you could give up on our marriage so easily.
The problem wasn’t my depression. It wasn’t my attitude. It wasn’t my determination to finish college. The problem was that you had already checked out. You stepped out on me, on us, and invited a strange woman into our life. You invited her into our most intimate moments, and planted a seed of doubt and unhappiness that she watered daily.
Before I knew about her, I assumed it was my fault. I made sure the house was clean, laundry was finished, the bed was made, and dinner was ready and waiting for you to get home from work. I listened to your day. I let you vent, blame me for things that I knew deep down were not my fault. I only wanted you to see how hard I was trying – even though you weren’t trying at all.
You betrayed my trust. You eagerly filled this woman in on my daily “wrongs”, even giving her live updates when you could. You lied to her about me. You lied to her about us. I blame her for accepting your invitation into our marriage, but I blame you more for inviting her.
I just hope she knows that there will always be another event in your relationships to which you will always invite someone other than her.