Throwing it all away
Throwing it all away
Is there nothing that I can say
To make you change your mind
I watch the world go round and round
And see mine turning upside down
You’re throwing it all away.
There was a time when I tried to find the words to change his mind. When I thought that my actions or lack there of, would or could or might effect the outcome of my separation and ultimately my marriage. When everything I did was hopefully going to bring him back; everything I did was with the intention getting him to come home. To me. To our family.
I couldn’t have been more disillusioned.
I think he left with a duffle bag of clothes. I can hardly remember through the thick fog of shock. Now. when I look in the closet, there are no bags or luggage missing. What on earth did he put his clothes in? He left so quickly that the door hardly had a chance to hit him on the ass before he walked away.
When he left all I could see was what he was throwing away. Seventeen years of love, support, marriage, family, friendship, trust and sex.
17 years of me.
When he left, I did try to find the words to change his mind. But very quickly I realized there was no chance of him coming home. There was no going back.
Five weeks after he left, in an attempt to connect and move forward, we met at a coffee shop in our neighbourhood, at his request. He wanted to see me. He felt like we were disconnected. He missed seeing me. He wanted us to be friends.
A late February afternoon. Our moods matched the weather. Grey, cloudy, and bitterly cold. I knew from the minute we walked into the coffee shop that we were done. The vibe emanating from his body couldn’t have been louder than the siren on the fire truck passing by the window. We could hardly speak. I could hardly speak. Let alone look him in the eye.
I remember it as clear as if it had happened yesterday. He said, “for the first time in my life I feel like I am putting myself first. I am doing exactly what it is that I want to do.”
That was probably the most honest thing he has said to me in years. And it hit me hard. It was pointless to continue our conversation. Like the hanging icicles, my hope shattered to the ground.
I took off my wedding rings that night.
Four days later, my worst nightmare was confirmed. There was another woman. He most certainly was putting himself first.
He threw us all away.