A Letter to End a Marriage

October 23, 2011

I am broken. It feels like I might split in two. But I haven't. I don't think I will. It is all crumbling, and falling, and changing. I know this because I am the one holding the sledge hammer.

After 11 years together, Dan and I are separating. We are signing documents, filing paperwork, and getting divorced.

I take a breath and knock over another wall.

I love him and he loves me and our marriage has changed us both. Knowing each other on this journey has been a privilege. I am stronger. I know my voice. I've tried new things and struggled so very hard to find myself. And I am finding her, and loving her, and I know he loves her and who I am becoming.

I cry and inhale, not wanting this change but longing for it. I contradict myself. More bricks fall.

I'm proud of you, Dan. I'm proud of all you accomplished. I'm proud of your ability to be creative and find new solutions, of your desire to think and know and discover. You are a gift to this world. Please don't forget that. You have been a gift to me.

Tears fall. He offers his hand and we watch another wall, another door, another window shatter.

We have been together for so very long and it's hard to imagine anything different. But I think different can be good and change can be needed--you helped me discover that. I know we vowed "Till death do us part," and I think that will always be true. You will be here woven into my life in the small corners of memories of laughter and tears.

We are human, we make mistakes and sometimes the decision to rewrite the ending is a gift on this journey, not a mark of failure. So, I need to say goodbye, at least for now, because finding my voice, my truth, my happiness has suddenly become real to me.

I wipe away more tears and strike again, the weight of it all in my firm hands.

There was a time when I would have grabbed onto anything, anything even if it hurt me. But I'm not doing that anymore. I won't. Not because I don't love you but because I love me and sometimes you and me are not good or great or healthy.

You have been patient with me when I least deserved it. We have been there for each other through death and life, sorrow and pain, in sickness and in health. We are strong sturdy beings who have much life left--at least I hope we do. But if we don't, if we only have a few days or hours left, that will be okay too because this was worth it.

The pain and growth and love and tears...It was worth becoming who I am so I could choose joy, so I could choose love, and so that I could tell you that I will always love you and I need to let this relationship go.

We drop our hands and turn toward the water, letting time bury the beautiful mess we have created. This has been the reality of our lives, slowly, gradually, and then all of a sudden.

We are two friends, forever changed, no longer husband and wife.