Writing a Goodbye Letter

As the days trudge on and life keeps moving, I realize with more clarity that my husband is not coming back. Even my in-laws have started treating me awkwardly all of a sudden. That speaks volumes. That means that they have likely spoken to my husband, and they realize it's over. It's time for me to realize it, too.

I had a lot of depression and anxiety the past few days. I wanted to text my husband, I wanted to email him. But I didn't. I didn't because I am coming to accept the fact that he does not love me, and he does not want to be with me.

That's hard to accept.

I read an article yesterday which suggested that writing a goodbye letter to your spouse who left is cathartic. So I'm writing mine.

Dear Jason,

We could have worked things out, and we could have been happy. But you decided you wanted to be single and unmarried to me. You decided that I was not worth the hassle of going to counseling. You decided you are happier not being with me. Goodbye to the dreams that I had for us...for buying a nice, new house...for retiring on a patch of land in 30 years...for having a baby soon. Goodbye to my life as a police spouse...my standing in the community as such...my pride at being a police wife. Goodbye to all of that. Goodbye to my stepdaughter for whom I made a lot of sacrifices, and who I treated as my own. Goodbye to the financial security we had, and the sweet nicknames we had for each other. Goodbye to my in-laws, and many joint friends we made over the years. Goodbye to feeling like a part of the police brotherhood. Goodbye to your scent, and feeling your heartbeat when I laid my head on your chest. Goodbye to watching Cops together and comparing it to your stories...goodbye to hearing funny cop stories. Goodbye to nice cars and getting my hair and nails done when I wanted. Goodbye to the lifestyle we had.

Then, the article recommended saying Goodbye to the bad things in the relationship to provide some perspective. I honestly thought I'd have a few lines, but once I started, the words just fell out of my head on to this screen.

Dear Jason.

Goodbye to a constantly messy house because you wouldn't do anything to help. Goodbye to being a single parent to your daughter who you never had time for. Goodbye to the bathroom being a disgusting mess because you couldn't manage to lift a finger. Goodbye to having to nag and remind for the most basic household tasks like setting the trash at the curb on your way to work, or mowing the lawn. Goodbye to me feeling overwhelmed by the amount of chores I would have to do by myself at home. Goodbye to me sleeping in the guest room because you took up the entire master bedroom with a bed that you wanted. Goodbye to not being able to use the living room because you decided to not sleep on the $2000 mattress we bought for you, and sleep in the recliner instead. Goodbye to me and my daughter walking on eggshells to not wake you up. Goodbye to not having conversations about anything meaningful. Goodbye to being ignored when I tried to talk to you about anything. Goodbye to not having eye contact made with me when speaking with you. Goodbye to not having ever gotten an engagement or wedding ring from you. Goodbye to never getting a card or one gift from you for anything, ever. Goodbye to never being complimented. Goodbye to having a 200 lb toddler at home who threw tantrums. Goodbye to never being texted back, or having you ask about my day at work and school. Goodbye to hearing you constantly bitch about your leg hurting, yet you never take Advil or go to the doctor. Goodbye to your foul, cocky attitude that you brought to our house after every shift. Goodbye to you tormenting my cat because you don't like cats. Goodbye to your complaining about the cat having potty accidents because you scared her on purpose. Goodbye to you never trying to have a relationship with my mom. Goodbye to your toxic, dysfunctional family. Goodbye to never feeling good enough for you. Goodbye to stressing about money when you couldn't be bothered to help make decisions. Goodbye to you deciding on your own to buy a brand new truck with a $450 monthly payment that we couldn't afford. Goodbye to having to buy the cheapest car we could find for me, because you bought that new truck. You got your dream truck, and I had to take an ugly Kia because that's all I was to you. 

That felt pretty good. And looking over the two parts of the Goodbye letter, I see that my part about goodbye to his shit is longer than my goodbye to his positive traits.

Perspective. It feels good.