The saddest part of this whole fucking separation? Is not what I thought it would be.
Breaking The Mr’s heart? No. I don’t think I’ve done that. He’s ok with me. And if I did break it, you can bet I did/am doing all I could to make sure it’s not destroyed.
Telling everyone about it? No; that was surprisingly easy, perhaps because I was so ready for it.
Trying to find somewhere to move out, and living circumstances until then? Nope; we know I can’t move until I’m back in the height of wedding season (finances). And we’re both fine in the house – we’re really good friends.
No, the biggest difficulty is actually the attitudes of others. His family, my family, complete strangers who know nothing about the situation. And they don’t know because they don’t ask. They don’t realise that The Mr and I ACTUALLY TALK about everything. EVERYTHING. They don’t realise that yes, of COURSE he fucking knows I’m blogging this. They don’t realise that yes of COURSE I give him a heads-up if it’s a sensitive post, or that I’m going to write it but password it if it’s too much. They don’t stop and think about WHY I’ve chosen to go down this route. They don’t realise that I often ask The Mr if he is ok, and if he still understands why I’m doing what I’m doing.
No. They assume the worst. They’re waiting for me to be an utter cunt about everything, and they’re waiting for me to drop that he’s being a cunt too. To say that, actually he abuses me regularly, and I’m moving out because he’s kicking me out of the house. And that we’re totally going to court to fight over The Smalls, and I’m going to sue his ass for everything I possibly can.
Newsflash: This. Is. Real. Life.
This is not some fucking TV soap. This is not bullshit Jeremy Kyle, or EastEnders, or whatever. He and I are responsible adults. We are not assholes, to others or to each other.
Now, this is directed at specific people, whom I think read my blog, but I don’t feel the need to “confront” them just yet. I grow more tired and more sad with the assumptions into what’s going on, why this is happening, and how we are. Instead of speaking in hushed whispers, instead of assuming you think you know exactly what is going on, why don’t you try speaking to us, instead? Why don’t you actually bear in mind that there’s no need to feel the need to “report back” to anyone?
If you’ve taken offence to that paragraph, then yeah, it’s probably you.
The Mr and I talk; I’m concerned for his wellbeing, just as he is for mine. We may not be IN love, but we still give a shit about each other. It’s called a friendship. And it’s working well, at the moment. Interestingly, we have each others’ back more than some might care to appreciate.
I hate posts like this, as I don’t feel I should have to explain myself. And, I don’t like stepping out of my little bubble world of randomly spouted thoughts. But sometimes, shit needs to be said.
I am strong. This is not easy, but right now, I am really fucking strong.