Date the Break

I don’t know when I broke up with you.

I can’t point to a date on the calendar and say “there, that’s when it happened.”

But it is clear to me now that I have been going through the motions of a relationship with you for some time.

Actually, I think I do know. When you sent the email to my daughter about the small amount of college money, while we were in Hawaii in November of 2014: I said it was okay, that you were right, and she needed to know that it was important.

I lied.
I didn’t agree then, and I don’t agree now.
Fuck that.
My daughter doesn't owe me anything for college. It is my honor to support her higher education.
If you want money from me for her schooling, fine.
Send me a fucking bill.
It mattered to you, but not to me, and I betrayed my daughter to avoid telling you to chill the fuck out.
What a worthless piece of shit I am. You were wrong.

She hasn't spoken 20 words to me since then.
I want my daughter back, and it feels like I won’t have that until you are no longer part of my life.

You can forgive someone, and divorce them.

You can forgive someone, and never see them again.

I’m trying to muster the courage to tell you good bye.

I’m trying to find the guts to say “let’s figure out how to split everything up.”

I’m almost to the point of saying “we’re done.”

I want to find forgiveness in my heart for you, but I JUST allowed myself to know that I was angry.
I JUST allowed myself to even feel that anger without reflexively bottling it back into my heart.

So, for now, I’m going to be sad and angry.