One Month
Today is one month since my BS told me they wanted a divorce because of my betrayal.
My day started off with a trip to the ER because of a leg injury sustained two weeks ago. I noticed yesterday that my leg was getting worse and knew I needed to get it looked at. I was nervous about it needing surgery and had asked them to come with me, which they willingly agreed to.
But the more I thought about it, I didn’t want them to feel obligated to feel bad for me. I didn’t want them to feel trapped in a small space with their betrayer. I didn’t want to sit next to them wishing that I could reach out for them, touch them, or hold their hand. So I told them that I would do it alone and that they didn’t have to come.
After four hours, I came home (yes, due to some financial restraints, we still live together). I let them know about the diagnosis, which is just a muscle tear. The way it felt, I thought I had torn a tendon in my hip.
An hour later, I had a therapy appointment, and five minutes in, I just started sobbing. The emotional weight of the day just took over.
One month.
One month without my best friend. One month without my life partner. One month of knowing how much my own selfish actions caused them horrible pain and betrayal trauma. One month of wishing I could change the past. One month of continuing to do everything wrong.
They ask for space, and I can’t give it to them. They ask me not to pursue them, and I keep pursuing. One month of turning my emotions into their problem.
One month… the worst month of my life. All self-inflicted.