Here I am, thirty-one years old and alone. If you would have told me ten years ago that I would be single in my thirties, I probably would have had a mild panic attack. But now that I have lived through my twenties, being thirty-something isn't half bad. Being alone after six years of marriage, however, hurts.
Yes. My husband left me. He said that he just couldn't live with the fact that I didn't want to try to have a baby with him. And I am crushed. Deeply.
My days are a roller coaster ride of self preservation highs and heart wrenching lows. I can't believe that he actually left. And with no warning. Seemingly out of nowhere.
I believed so fully in our marriage. Believed that we could weather almost any storm. And we had. We had weathered some pretty gnarly ones. All the time, I thought it had only made us stronger. Obviously, I was wrong.
Now I am praying for my contractors license to go through. Praying for a string of good work. Praying for strength and grace. Praying to understand God's plan for me. And praying that I finally become the person I am meant to be.
My heart may be tied in knots and my courage is very weak. But I realize that now is the time to rinse the dust from my weary soul and rise to the occasion. Who am I without my husband? Who am I when standing alone? What am I doing with my life that I can be proud of?
I did not make this decision. I did not want to end my marriage. I love my husband so very much. He will always hold a part of my heart.
But he walked away.
And now I must learn to walk without him.