No Words

Sometimes there are situations in life for which it is impossible to find the right words.  Deaths come to mind.  Seems there is no right thing to say, no way to capture in words what you want to convey to the mourning parties.  You hurt for them, you want to help them hurt less, you are sad, but not as sad as they are.

No right words.

This is one of those times.

My husband is leaving.
We are separating.

But those words are all wrong.  They are only about location, proximity.  As if a change of address card would cover all of the necessary communication.  But no, it’s way bigger than that.

He doesn’t want to live with me.
Living with me doesn’t make him happy.

Still seems sort of location based, like the issue is the furnishings or the neighborhood.

He doesn’t love me anymore.

That just makes me sad.  It might be more accurate, but I don’t want to use those words.

I am sad.
I am angry.
I am profoundly disappointed.

All too one-dimensional.  More like sad AND angry AND disappointed.

Not throwing glassware around angry. Not crawling into bed and never coming out sad.

Actually probably about that angry and about that sad, but with enough self-preservation to know those aren’t the right moves to manage the situation.

Disenchanted? Too fairy tale.
Crestfallen? Too pathetic.
Thwarted? Too villainous.

There need to be different words.  Sangry? Angripointed?

I accept what is happening.

No. Accept is too passive.  To, well, accepting.

I understand why this needs to happen.

No. Understanding would be an overstatement.  It makes no sense to me.  None.

I comprehend that there are reasons.

Sort of sucks all of the emotion out of things.  Comprehend.  I comprehend it.  Without accepting it.  Without understanding it.

Sorta.  I guess.

I am fine.
I am doing OK.
I am holding up well.

Again, sorta.  I am on many levels fine.  I will be fine.  We will be fine.

Life goes on.  Almost the same great life I was already living. Thought he was living, too.

Amazing kids. Cuddly dogs. Incredible friends. Overwhelming love and support from my family. Good job prospects on the horizon.

Love, health, happiness – I have it all.  It’s all good.  I am a lucky girl.

Except that whole “separation” thing.  That whole “probable end of my marriage” wrinkle.  That part is fairly sucky.


Very appropriate word.  I guess that’s the winner.

This is very sucky.

About Kristen

Me: Kristen, more than 40-something (don't make me face the number), suburban mom of 2, working girl, therapeutic writer, proprietor of an emptying nest Addictions: Iced Coffee, FOMO resulting in twitchy compulsion to check FB/Instagram/Pinterest in an unending loop, texting, hugging my one child while Snapchatting the other and yelling at my dog

13 Responses

  1. Sucky…perfect! My marriage is ending after 20 years…and it is sucky, nasty, and an emotional rollercoaster. It’s almost a year since he left, divorce is still not final…but I have a sense of hope, peace and excitement for my future. I won’t lie it’s hard, especially with kids. Hang in there, and surround yourself with good friends, wine and chocolate!

  2. Gman

    I am sorry, Kristen. I have been through that myself, and the death analogy is apt. The end of a marriage is a bereavement, a prolonged bereavement. Your former spouse is still alive, over there somewhere. Not with you. Makes “closure” really hard for a long time.

    In my case, I had seen it coming for months but hoped it wouldn’t happen. It took almost a year of living by myself and seeing our lives veer off in different directions to be completely comfortable with it. We did socialize occasionally, and that actually helped, because at some point, I remember listening to her talk and realizing “I have nothing to say to her anymore,” and at that point I was truly liberated.

    Of course, every dissolving marriage is unique in that Tolstoyan way, and I would be presumptuous to offer any advice on how to weather this. I came out the other side a stronger person, I know that, and also a more open and communicative person. I wish you the best.

  3. David

    Sucky is a great word for this, but life does go on and you will as well. I know from my mother and mother-in-law’s experiences as relatively young widows, who were both married over 40 years, that the part of your life that shared with your soon-to-be ex will fade but not totally disappear. Perhaps you will remember the good times (presuming that they were there?) and not remember the bad ones so much?

    Good luck to you and your family. I hope that you will find a new love in your life and that children will be able to manage a relationship with both you and their father that it is healthy for all.

  4. Roz

    I offer a quote from Ann Landers: “Time heals all wounds and wounds all heels.”

    It’s small comfort now, but the passage of time will ease the sucky-ness, the anger, and the disappointment.

    As for your husband, he will very likely not find whatever it is that he’s seeking “out there.” Even if he does find it, he won’t want it for long. I can’t go into detail on this on a public blog, but trust me, it’s true.

    Unfortunately for him, you’ll have found someone better and you’ll turn him down when he wants to come back home.

  5. Kirsten

    I second all of the lovely comments above.

    I like your word sangry, but I love angripointed. It sounds sharp and angry and to the point. He is a fool. And you have every right to feel everything you are feeling and more.

    I wish there were words that would help to change things. But I can offer these words to you: love, listening, support, friendship, caring, and margaritas. You can choose the order depending upon the day and how you need them. Here are the words that I know will come to you, eventually: new happiness, new reality, new love, new horizons. You, I know, will be more than fine. You will be happier than you have been. I believe that with my whole heart.

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