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I never wanted this, but here it is.

You know that saying, Life is what happens when you’re making plans?

Monday night my wife came home from an out-of-town seminar. She told me how it went, what she learned, and we sat down and watched the finale of Game of Thrones. After the credits rolled, she told me she was leaving me, she packed a suitcase, and she drove off.

Yeah. That happened.

Thirty-four years and thirty days of marriage, nuked from orbit.

And now I am a cliché. A greying divorcé who drives a red sports car. Eff me.

The fact that I didn’t see it coming—along with being an understatement—does nothing to dispel the stereotypical pall.

For reasons of honor, privacy, and legality, I won’t litigate the case in a public forum. My perspective is irrelevant, anyway. She’s gone. She’s not coming back. This isn’t a trial separation. It’s the end of “us.”

To be honest, if she was that unhappy, I don’t blame her for leaving. I would have preferred being given the chance to work on it, but that horse has fled the barn. Still, though, I say with all sincerity that I wish her happy and I wish her well.

I never wanted this. I never even dreamed it could happen to us.

But here it is.

 

k

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