I've been married for 20 years. Unimaginable, isn't it? But the last
eight years or so... half of the marriage, really... has been barely
anything like a relationship. We don't sleep together, do anything
together, barely talk most of the time. And we are finally getting a
divorce. This is a very good thing, but I find everything about it
excruciating.

Today he said, what are you going to tell our son about why we are
getting a divorce? Because as far as I'm concerned, the reason is
only because you want it.

And I was so angry. I didn't really say that to him, what's the
point? But I mulled it over in my mind, and talked to Michael about
it, and tried to figure out why it makes me so angry. I don't know,
really, but part of it is that, for some reason, I just want some kind
of acknowledgement from him, of how much I put into this, of how long
I put into this, of everything I did before, finally, I just gave up.
That I didn't just throw him and the relationship away, that I loved
him and did everything that I could for as long as I could. I don't
want his blessing or absolution or anything like that... although,
sure, it would make it easier. But I wish that I believed that he
understood.

Michael said, what do you want your medal to read? He's right, of
course. That's what I want, some sort of award that says... I don't
know, something. I had to think long and hard about what that
something was, but I think that it's "You did the best that you
could."

And, damn it, I did. I didn't do everything right. I did a lot of
things really wrong, and I was wrong, too, to just give up but stay
married... but then, I couldn't have done anything different. I
believed that it was the right thing to do for my son, and I was too
intrinsically screwed up to be able to walk away, then. But I spent a
hell of a long time trying really hard, of blaming myself for
everything that was wrong, of taking care of everything, of trying to
talk to someone who would just look at me and say nothing. I gave him
everything that I had, and I loved him for a very long time, and I
didn't give up until I realized that it was killing me. And the
recognition of that sent me into what I can only call a disassociative
break, so that I was someone else for about six months, and then the
worst depression of my life, although there were many things that
caused that.

At the end of it all, I just want him to understand that. I don't
know why it matters to me... perhaps because I did love him, and I saw
what he could be, if he chose to, and I want him to know that I didn't
just discard him. He discarded me, for all that I think he'll never
get that. And I didn't understand it, and in a way, it broke my heart
a bit. I understand it better now, I think, because I've seen what
kind of courage it takes to try to break old patterns, and he doesn't
have that or want it.

And where does all that leave me? I don't know. Filled with
admiration for Michael, who works at this sort of thing all the time,
no matter what the cost. With bitterness, just a little, for the
knowledge that I'll never get the acknowledgment that I want... that
medal... because if my husband (and for so many years, it has felt
just wrong to call him that) could really understand that, we probably
wouldn't be here. With a vague kind of hope that at some point, this
will all be DONE, and that at last I can break free, once and for all,
from the guilt and the history and the past.

I did do the best that I could.


Nina

_____________
"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me lay an

-Albert Camus

I've been married for 20 years. Unimaginable, isn't it? But the last
eight years or so... half of the marriage, really... has been barely
anything like a relationship. We don't sleep together, do anything
together, barely talk most of the time. And we are finally getting a
divorce. This is a very good thing, but I find everything about it
excruciating.

Today he said, what are you going to tell our son about why we are
getting a divorce? Because as far as I'm concerned, the reason is
only because you want it.

And I was so angry. I didn't really say that to him, what's the
point? But I mulled it over in my mind, and talked to Michael about
it, and tried to figure out why it makes me so angry. I don't know,
really, but part of it is that, for some reason, I just want some kind
of acknowledgement from him, of how much I put into this, of how long
I put into this, of everything I did before, finally, I just gave up.
That I didn't just throw him and the relationship away, that I loved
him and did everything that I could for as long as I could. I don't
want his blessing or absolution or anything like that... although,
sure, it would make it easier. But I wish that I believed that he
understood.

Michael said, what do you want your medal to read? He's right, of
course. That's what I want, some sort of award that says... I don't
know, something. I had to think long and hard about what that
something was, but I think that it's "You did the best that you
could."

And, damn it, I did. I didn't do everything right. I did a lot of
things really wrong, and I was wrong, too, to just give up but stay
married... but then, I couldn't have done anything different. I
believed that it was the right thing to do for my son, and I was too
intrinsically screwed up to be able to walk away, then. But I spent a
hell of a long time trying really hard, of blaming myself for
everything that was wrong, of taking care of everything, of trying to
talk to someone who would just look at me and say nothing. I gave him
everything that I had, and I loved him for a very long time, and I
didn't give up until I realized that it was killing me. And the
recognition of that sent me into what I can only call a disassociative
break, so that I was someone else for about six months, and then the
worst depression of my life, although there were many things that
caused that.

At the end of it all, I just want him to understand that. I don't
know why it matters to me... perhaps because I did love him, and I saw
what he could be, if he chose to, and I want him to know that I didn't
just discard him. He discarded me, for all that I think he'll never
get that. And I didn't understand it, and in a way, it broke my heart
a bit. I understand it better now, I think, because I've seen what
kind of courage it takes to try to break old patterns, and he doesn't
have that or want it.

And where does all that leave me? I don't know. Filled with
admiration for Michael, who works at this sort of thing all the time,
no matter what the cost. With bitterness, just a little, for the
knowledge that I'll never get the acknowledgment that I want... that
medal... because if my husband (and for so many years, it has felt
just wrong to call him that) could really understand that, we probably
wouldn't be here. With a vague kind of hope that at some point, this
will all be DONE, and that at last I can break free, once and for all,
from the guilt and the history and the past.

I did do the best that I could.

Nina

_____________
"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me lay an

-Albert Camus

I've been married for 20 years. Unimaginable, isn't it? But the last
eight years or so... half of the marriage, really... has been barely
anything like a relationship. We don't sleep together, do anything
together, barely talk most of the time. And we are finally getting a
divorce. This is a very good thing, but I find everything about it
excruciating.

Today he said, what are you going to tell our son about why we are
getting a divorce? Because as far as I'm concerned, the reason is
only because you want it.

And I was so angry. I didn't really say that to him, what's the
point? But I mulled it over in my mind, and talked to Michael about
it, and tried to figure out why it makes me so angry. I don't know,
really, but part of it is that, for some reason, I just want some kind
of acknowledgement from him, of how much I put into this, of how long
I put into this, of everything I did before, finally, I just gave up.
That I didn't just throw him and the relationship away, that I loved
him and did everything that I could for as long as I could. I don't
want his blessing or absolution or anything like that... although,
sure, it would make it easier. But I wish that I believed that he
understood.

Michael said, what do you want your medal to read? He's right, of
course. That's what I want, some sort of award that says... I don't
know, something. I had to think long and hard about what that
something was, but I think that it's "You did the best that you
could."

And, damn it, I did. I didn't do everything right. I did a lot of
things really wrong, and I was wrong, too, to just give up but stay
married... but then, I couldn't have done anything different. I
believed that it was the right thing to do for my son, and I was too
intrinsically screwed up to be able to walk away, then. But I spent a
hell of a long time trying really hard, of blaming myself for
everything that was wrong, of taking care of everything, of trying to
talk to someone who would just look at me and say nothing. I gave him
everything that I had, and I loved him for a very long time, and I
didn't give up until I realized that it was killing me. And the
recognition of that sent me into what I can only call a disassociative
break, so that I was someone else for about six months, and then the
worst depression of my life, although there were many things that
caused that.

At the end of it all, I just want him to understand that. I don't
know why it matters to me... perhaps because I did love him, and I saw
what he could be, if he chose to, and I want him to know that I didn't
just discard him. He discarded me, for all that I think he'll never
get that. And I didn't understand it, and in a way, it broke my heart
a bit. I understand it better now, I think, because I've seen what
kind of courage it takes to try to break old patterns, and he doesn't
have that or want it.

And where does all that leave me? I don't know. Filled with
admiration for Michael, who works at this sort of thing all the time,
no matter what the cost. With bitterness, just a little, for the
knowledge that I'll never get the acknowledgment that I want... that
medal... because if my husband (and for so many years, it has felt
just wrong to call him that) could really understand that, we probably
wouldn't be here. With a vague kind of hope that at some point, this
will all be DONE, and that at last I can break free, once and for all,
from the guilt and the history and the past.

I did do the best that I could.

I've been married for 20 years. Unimaginable, isn't it? But the last
eight years or so... half of the marriage, really... has been barely
anything like a relationship. We don't sleep together, do anything
together, barely talk most of the time. And we are finally getting a
divorce. This is a very good thing, but I find everything about it
excruciating.

Today he said, what are you going to tell our son about why we are
getting a divorce? Because as far as I'm concerned, the reason is
only because you want it.

And I was so angry. I didn't really say that to him, what's the
point? But I mulled it over in my mind, and talked to Michael about
it, and tried to figure out why it makes me so angry. I don't know,
really, but part of it is that, for some reason, I just want some kind
of acknowledgement from him, of how much I put into this, of how long
I put into this, of everything I did before, finally, I just gave up.
That I didn't just throw him and the relationship away, that I loved
him and did everything that I could for as long as I could. I don't
want his blessing or absolution or anything like that... although,
sure, it would make it easier. But I wish that I believed that he
understood.

Michael said, what do you want your medal to read? He's right, of
course. That's what I want, some sort of award that says... I don't
know, something. I had to think long and hard about what that
something was, but I think that it's "You did the best that you
could."

And, damn it, I did. I didn't do everything right. I did a lot of
things really wrong, and I was wrong, too, to just give up but stay
married... but then, I couldn't have done anything different. I
believed that it was the right thing to do for my son, and I was too
intrinsically screwed up to be able to walk away, then. But I spent a
hell of a long time trying really hard, of blaming myself for
everything that was wrong, of taking care of everything, of trying to
talk to someone who would just look at me and say nothing. I gave him
everything that I had, and I loved him for a very long time, and I
didn't give up until I realized that it was killing me. And the
recognition of that sent me into what I can only call a disassociative
break, so that I was someone else for about six months, and then the
worst depression of my life, although there were many things that
caused that.

At the end of it all, I just want him to understand that. I don't
know why it matters to me... perhaps because I did love him, and I saw
what he could be, if he chose to, and I want him to know that I didn't
just discard him. He discarded me, for all that I think he'll never
get that. And I didn't understand it, and in a way, it broke my heart
a bit. I understand it better now, I think, because I've seen what
kind of courage it takes to try to break old patterns, and he doesn't
have that or want it.

And where does all that leave me? I don't know. Filled with
admiration for Michael, who works at this sort of thing all the time,
no matter what the cost. With bitterness, just a little, for the
knowledge that I'll never get the acknowledgment that I want... that
medal... because if my husband (and for so many years, it has felt
just wrong to call him that) could really understand that, we probably
wouldn't be here. With a vague kind of hope that at some point, this
will all be DONE, and that at last I can break free, once and for all,
from the guilt and the history and the past.

I did do the best that I could.

I did do the best that I could.

I've been married for 20 years. Unimaginable, isn't it? But the last
eight years or so... half of the marriage, really... has been barely
anything like a relationship. We don't sleep together, do anything
together, barely talk most of the time. And we are finally getting a
divorce. This is a very good thing, but I find everything about it
excruciating.

Today he said, what are you going to tell our son about why we are
getting a divorce? Because as far as I'm concerned, the reason is
only because you want it.

And I was so angry. I didn't really say that to him, what's the
point? But I mulled it over in my mind, and talked to Michael about
it, and tried to figure out why it makes me so angry. I don't know,
really, but part of it is that, for some reason, I just want some kind
of acknowledgement from him, of how much I put into this, of how long
I put into this, of everything I did before, finally, I just gave up.
That I didn't just throw him and the relationship away, that I loved
him and did everything that I could for as long as I could. I don't
want his blessing or absolution or anything like that... although,
sure, it would make it easier. But I wish that I believed that he
understood.

Michael said, what do you want your medal to read? He's right, of
course. That's what I want, some sort of award that says... I don't
know, something. I had to think long and hard about what that
something was, but I think that it's "You did the best that you
could." =20

I did do the best that I could.
Nina

I've been married for 20 years. Unimaginable, isn't it? But the last
eight years or so... half of the marriage, really... has been barely
anything like a relationship. We don't sleep together, do anything
together, barely talk most of the time. And we are finally getting a
divorce. This is a very good thing, but I find everything about it
excruciating.

Today he said, what are you going to tell our son about why we are
getting a divorce? Because as far as I'm concerned, the reason is
only because you want it.

And I was so angry. I didn't really say that to him, what's the
point? But I mulled it over in my mind, and talked to Michael about
it, and tried to figure out why it makes me so angry. I don't know,
really, but part of it is that, for some reason, I just want some kind
of acknowledgement from him, of how much I put into this, of how long
I put into this, of everything I did before, finally, I just gave up.
That I didn't just throw him and the relationship away, that I loved
him and did everything that I could for as long as I could. I don't
want his blessing or absolution or anything like that... although,
sure, it would make it easier. But I wish that I believed that he
understood.

Michael said, what do you want your medal to read? He's right, of
course. That's what I want, some sort of award that says... I don't
know, something. I had to think long and hard about what that
something was, but I think that it's "You did the best that you
could."

And, damn it, I did. I didn't do everything right. I did a lot of
things really wrong, and I was wrong, too, to just give up but stay
married... but then, I couldn't have done anything different. I
believed that it was the right thing to do for my son, and I was too
intrinsically screwed up to be able to walk away, then. But I spent a
hell of a long time trying really hard, of blaming myself for
everything that was wrong, of taking care of everything, of trying to
talk to someone who would just look at me and say nothing. I gave him
everything that I had, and I loved him for a very long time, and I
didn't give up until I realized that it was killing me. And the
recognition of that sent me into what I can only call a disassociative
break, so that I was someone else for about six months, and then the
worst depression of my life, although there were many things that
caused that.

At the end of it all, I just want him to understand that. I don't
know why it matters to me... perhaps because I did love him, and I saw
what he could be, if he chose to, and I want him to know that I didn't
just discard him. He discarded me, for all that I think he'll never
get that. And I didn't understand it, and in a way, it broke my heart
a bit. I understand it better now, I think, because I've seen what
kind of courage it takes to try to break old patterns, and he doesn't
have that or want it.

And where does all that leave me? I don't know. Filled with
admiration for Michael, who works at this sort of thing all the time,
no matter what the cost. With bitterness, just a little, for the
knowledge that I'll never get the acknowledgment that I want... that
medal... because if my husband (and for so many years, it has felt
just wrong to call him that) could really understand that, we probably
wouldn't be here. With a vague kind of hope that at some point, this
will all be DONE, and that at last I can break free, once and for all,
from the guilt and the history and the past.

I did do the best that I could.

Nina

_____________
"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me lay an invincible summer."
-Albert Camus