How to Tell When Your Marriage is REALLY over - Part TWO

Starting here? Be sure to read Part One first!

Thus followed a few surreal weeks during which the following things happened:

• After discovering him talking to the unknown woman (who I shall henceforth refer to as the Walking Vagina), I returned to bed and fell asleep, woke up the next morning, confronted him in the guest bathroom with the door closed so the kids wouldn’t hear, and kicked him out of the house. Then I waited for my mother to arrive and when she did, crawled into bed to cry on and off for the next several days.
• I insisted we take a previously scheduled family vacation to Mexico, with my mother and his father along for the ride. I wanted to do this for the kids who didn't deserve to have their fun time cancelled because of mommy and daddy's marital meltdown. We spent the entire 11-day trip in separate rooms on opposite sides of the resort with the kids bouncing between the two of us and our parents acting as go-betweens from either side. The girls had a blast. The adults did not. I did, however, take great pleasure in calling him a cheater and a liar just as we staggered out of the airport shuttle and into the hotel lobby. If I'd had a sequined dress and a glass of wine to throw at him, I am certain I would have looked exactly like an angry heiress from an 80s soap opera.
• During one late night sob fest, I decided to post a profile and photos of myself on a few online dating sites (mostly to boost my sagging ego...clearly I was in no position to date). Due to an unfortunate and bizarre incident likely fueled by not enough sleep and too much crying, I accidently cut and paste my online dating profile onto my daughters' school's Yelp! page (I am still not sure how it happened) where it sat for the most stressful and horrifying 10 minutes of my life until I was able to remove it. 

Once the miserable fog of shock and anger lifted, the dawning realization that I no longer had to deal with this man's issues took over and I entered a blissful limbo period where I continued to live at the house, spend our money, and take care of the kids. In other words, I was living exactly as I had before but minus the one thing that had been holding me back. 

Yet I still had no idea what the future held.

My husband, who was living a few miles away at the cottage of a friend, seemed lost and confused. He couldn't tell me if he wanted a divorce or not. The most I could get out of him was, “I don’t know. I’m too volatile right now.” He was barely functioning and suffering from hourly panic attacks and a streak of bad luck that included rear ending a truck at a stop sign and finding a mysterious lump on his chest. Whatever happened, I needed him to be stable and firing on all cylinders before we made any decisions about next steps.

And although I was feeling huge relief at his absence from my daily life, I surprisingly still didn’t know what I wanted. I hadn’t had a real job in over six years. I wasn’t too keen on jumping into full-time work, leaving behind my role as a full-time parent. Even if I could find a job, there was no guarantee I’d be lucky enough to get one that allowed me the flexibility I’d need to be a single parent AND the income I’d need to live in one of the most expensive areas in the U.S.

We spoke frequently during that time and he even came over to have dinner at the house once or twice. He began texting me daily to check in. I texted him photos of the kids and asked how he was doing. We hugged when we saw each other. It was all very cozy and amicable, considering the circumstances.

But still, I had no sense of direction, no clear answers about my future. I felt like I was waiting for a message from the universe to tell me what to do.

And so it did.

Which is where we get to the point of this two-part post.

How do you know when your marriage is finished, kaput, dunzo?

In my case, it was when a friend drove over to meet me during a Monday morning hike, sat me down on a log, looked at me with a troubled expression, and told me my husband had been spotted the day before at a local park with a woman he introduced as his girlfriend. This is the same husband who, after said hike, called me on his phone while driving the Walking Vagina—unbeknownst to me—to dine with him in a nearby town.

I remember the conversation. We chatted about his therapy, his plans for the coming week, he asked about the kids. It was all perfectly nice and normal. Only it wasn’t. Because while we were talking, he was tooling around with the woman he cheated on me with, who I’d assumed he’d set aside (silly me) so he could focus on getting therapy and figure out what the next steps were for us (if any).

When I confronted him in a rage-filled texting frenzy, I was told he’d done nothing wrong, he thought I didn’t want to know about the Walking Vagina, that he’d never said they weren’t still seeing each other, yada, yada, yada.

And that, right there, was the moment I knew with absolute clarity and conviction I was finished with him. I picked up the phone, called a lawyer, and started gathering myself together for the next phase of our lives. Of my life.

So that’s my story. 

And you, dear reader? Are you perusing this post because you are looking for clarity in your own unfortunate situation? If so, I send you virtual hugs, a box of virtual tissues, and a tall bottle of virtual tequila.

The truth is, when the time comes to throw in the towel, you will know it just as you know the names of your own children. You will feel it in your bones. And while you may have moments of doubt, likely fueled by fear of the unknown...even then, those doubts won't last long enough for you to change your mind. 

This I can promise you.