The bedrooms were moved around today. I am in one, he is in the other. So technically, we’re separated. In truth, we have never really been together mentally, spiritually or emotionally; not in a way that was ever harmonious enough to be called healthfully functional.
We’ve been two scared kids, emotionally traumatised, untrusting and unable to admit that we got married because we were loathe to be alone. The idiocy of it is we’ve remained alone; like two juvenile hermit carbs that should really find larger shells to expand our capacity but still morbidly determined to remain in the scarred and tiny shells of our youth. We may be in our thirties but shit, it’s like we’re still in our teens.
There are no plans to divorce or move away from each other. That would be tragically unfair for the children. Financially, it would bankrupt us. It’s not unbearable. We’ve been without any significant support network for long enough to know that each other is the best we’ve got.
The idea is to see if we can work a few things out whilst leaving enough room to discover who and what we really want to be and do as individuals. There are plans in progress for the general running of the home. Neither of us is angry; just really sad it’s taken this long admit there’s a problem. Blaming each other for any of it is fruitless and inhibitive to growth in the future.
Realistically, we’ve not had a lot of time work out a lot of this stuff. With multiple redundancies, becoming technically homeless and almost bankrupt, having several inappropriate interruptions from certain destructive family members, amongst other stupidly dramatic events, I’m not sure we had time to fully process things in the scantly placed ‘quiet’ times.
So basically, we’re close friends who just happened to f*** a few times, make a couple of babies and screw up enough that we only have each other to rely on…