Dear Husband,
I was driving the other day, and a song came on the radio that made me think of you. This very clear image of us and the kids appeared in my mind. It wasn't a memory, exactly, but an image of a repetitive, typical experience in our lives: you driving, me sitting next to you in the front passenger's seat, all three kids in the back, all of us singing and laughing. I saw you laugh, that open-mouthed, joyous laugh you produced when you were just enjoying the moment. I could so clearly see your profile with the sun streaming in the window, a smile on your face, and crinkles at the corners of your eyes. I could hear your laugh. As this image appeared in my mind, I realized with a sudden, painful, urgent sense of reality that I will never again see you smile like that, or hear your laugh, or even just ride along in the car with you. This realization brought on a wave of sadness, and I almost lost control of myself. I almost began sobbing right there in the car, with my son in the backseat. I almost gave in to the grief of losing my husband.
But I didn't. Because grieving the loss of a spouse is not the only grief I am experiencing. I am also grieving over the loss of my former self, the person I was before I met you. I am grieving over the abuse you subjected me to. I am grieving over the loss of the man you pretended to be while trying to understand the man you actually are. And while I miss those simple, happy moments we shared as a family, there are so many other things that I will not miss. While I am sad considering the wonderful things about marraige that I will never again experience with you, I am relieved to be rid of all of the negativity that I will never again have to face.
Never again will I cook your favorite meal and enjoy the satisfaction of knowing I have showed my love and affection for you through this simple daily act.
Never again will I listen to your slight criticisms that the meat is overdone, that the vegetables are too seasoned, that I put too much ice in your drink, or that I didn't stir your tea correctly.
Never again will I share intimate moments, kisses, and touches with you.
Never again will I wonder who else you are being intimate with.
Never again will I get a mid-day text message from you just to tell me you're thinking about me.
Never again will I wonder what you're up to and who else you're thinking about when I text you and it takes you hours to respond.
Never again will I get to share date nights and new experiences with you.
Never again will I have to check your cell phone's GPS history to see where you really were when you had a night out without me.
Never again will I feel the strength, warmth, and comfort of your arms around me as you pull me into a close embrace.
Never again will I subtly smell you to see if I can detect the trace of another woman's perfume.
Never again will I be able to hug and smell yesterday's work shirts when I miss you when you are out of the house.
Never again will I check your collar for lipstick marks or rummage through your pockets for notes from your paramours or receipts from your dates.
Never again will I return to bed after a midnight restroom break to you holding the covers and welcoming me back to bed by tucking me back in.
Never again will I sneak to your side of the room while you are sleeping to quietly steal your phone and hide in the bathroom so I can look through your emails and text messages, searching for evidence of yet another affair or sexting partner.
Never again will I awake in the middle of the night and feel safe because your presence is near.
Never again will I awake and discover you aren't in bed and wander through the house looking for you, afraid you have snuck out for a midnight tryst.
I miss all the small, comforting moments of our daily life as husband and wife. I miss the moments when I felt loved and adored by you. I miss the man who looked at me like I was the most precious thing he had ever seen and like he couldn't believe his luck in ending up with me. I miss the man who championed for me, defended me, and supported me through all the years we spent together.
But I do not miss all the anxiety that I wasn't good enough. I don't miss worrying that you were spending time with another woman when you weren't at home with me. I don't miss the embarassment of requesting STD testing as a married woman each year at my pelvic exam and then having to explain to the doctor or nurse that although I had only slept with one man for years, I wasn't sure he hadn't slept with someone else. I don't miss having to constantly play detective to figure out if you were currently cheating or if I was your only lover at the moment.
I can find love, security, and comfort in a future relationship with another man. I can also find love for myself and learn to be comfortable and secure in my own skin and with the life I am creating for myself. I can have all those joys again. But I will never again allow myself to remain in a relationship like our marriage, one in which I am treated with disrespect, in which I am cheated on, and in which I doubt both my value and my sanity. You put me through hell in our marriage and in the months since you left. But with that hell came the most valuable life lesson: I am good enough and I deserve better. I traded all those happy moments for the peace of mind I now have, and I would do it again.
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