The Wedding Anniversary That Wasn’t

Today, August 3rd, was my wedding anniversary, and I spent it without my husband.

Other wives spend anniversaries alone because their husbands have gone to war, or are stuck on business in a far off city, longing to return home. I have no idea where my husband is, or if he will ever come back to me.

I spent my anniversary alone today because two weeks ago Sunday, my husband left me. No warning, no discussion, not even a fight. Just an email telling me that he was leaving, and one last “I love you.”

I have spent the past two weeks vascillating between tears, and sleepless, nauseating numbness, trying to discern how he thinks deserting me is loving. The day he left, I died inside, and then I fled. I just left everything. Nothing matters without him.

I understand how someone can die of a broken heart. I most definitely want to die. I have considered it at length. I have made plans that would make others cringe. But right now, in my heart of hearts, it’s an option. A good option. Living in the wake of being abandoned by the one person you trusted more than anyone else on earth is unbearably painful–like having a heavy, hot stone inside your chest that cannot be moved. It’s exhausting, and surreal, and leaves you with a sense of loneliness that cannot be described in any meaningful way. It has definitely made me question my faith, my purpose, my willingness to exist.

I spent my wedding anniversary alone today, and I want to die.

I love him so much, it has destroyed me.

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