The Day My Husband Died

I've written this a million times in my head and now as I sit down to type it out, my mind is blank. I don't know where to begin. I don't know how to tell my story without boring you with every painful dramatic detail. I'll try to keep this short.

We were discussing where we would move once we transferred back to the mainland. Tension was high. Moving from an island to the mainland is stressful. Not having jobs or a home lined up is even more stressful. Looking back, I'm sure that we took our stress out on each other. We were all that we had. 

Mid-conversation he blurted out, "I can't do this anymore."

Me: "Do what?"

Moments that felt like eternity passed and then he said it. "I want a divorce."

Divorce. I was speechless. I couldn't put words together. I was spinning. Where was this coming from? How did this happen? Surely he was just emotional and didn't really mean it, right? This was coming from the guy who had planned a day full of surprises for my birthday a month before. The guy who wrote me a love note about how thankful he was to wake up to me a week before. The guy who showered me with praises and thanks on a daily basis. The guy I called my husband, my best friend.

Those of you who know him and I personally or who read my blog frequently, know that we were deeply in love. Or at least it appeared that way. To you and to me. He really was my best friend. Neither one of us was perfect by any means, but we were happy.

When did this happen? What did I do? I was embarrassed. I was ashamed. I was disappointed. I felt insecure. I felt like a failure. I felt alone. My heart was broken.

As you could imagine, I had a million questions. WHY? was obviously the first one. I couldn't help but ask questions. I kept thinking that this may be the only chance that I had to save our marriage or to at least find out how this happened. I'd later find out that I was right about it being my only chance, even if it was a small one.

The next month, living in the same home in Hawaii, was the toughest month of my life thus far. I lost 20 pounds within that month. I couldn't go more than a few hours without crying. Without family anywhere closer than Texas, I leaned heavily on my closest friend on the island. I feel like I owe my life to her. Often times she'd show up at my house to make me get out of bed. She helped me in more ways than one and I'm forever grateful.

I was living with a man that I did not know. You see, my husband died the day that he said he wanted a divorce. I know that sounds terribly dramatic, but let me explain. He changed. He was cold. He wouldn't even acknowledge Duke. He wouldn't look at me. He talked to me in ways I could have never dreamt of before. He did things that even a stranger would not do to me. He embarrassed himself and me, as his wife. It didn't make any sense. My husband was gone.

He turned to alcohol, other substances, and anger to cover whatever he was hiding. 

I turned to any possible help that I could think of. I reached out to several members of his family. His mother was the only one who seemed remotely interested in helping us but that soon faded. The same people who watched us marry and promised to hold us accountable in our marriage were now turning their back on us when we needed them the most. I started to feel desperate when I'd call, text, and email his family and get no response. But then I realized, I was desperate. I was losing my husband. I was losing my husband and I didn't even know why. Could they blame me for trying?

I wasn't going to give up. I made promises and vows that I intended to keep. I exhausted all options. I told myself that I had to be able to look back, whether it be with him or without him, and know that I did absolutely everything in my power to save our marriage. I'm so so so grateful that I did. It's the only thing that gives me peace, even today. I somehow had this overwhelming feeling of calmness throughout all of this. I never raised my voice or got angry. I never did anything that I regret. I did everything I knew to do and I would do it the same again.

I began seeing a chaplain and invited him to come with me. He refused, so I continued to go on my own. The chaplain suggested that I read a book titled "Love Must Be Tough" by Dr. James Dobson. Willing to try anything, I purchased the book immediately. Reading it became something that I looked forward to. It was as if it pumped some kind of hope, wisdom, and strength inside of me. That book, and that chaplain, made life a lot more bearable those first few months. They helped me survive.

Once the month passed and it was time for him to return to Texas, I considered staying in Hawaii. I loved it there. But I couldn't stand the thought of missing out on a chance to make it work. I hadn't lost hope yet. It's not over until it's over, right? I had a team of amazing friends and family waiting for me in Texas. I needed all of the support I could get.

We got on a plane. We got off in Texas. And that was it. It was like we didn't know each other. It was like our marriage never existed. I felt like our marriage meant nothing and that I meant even less.

I spent a few weeks crying and feeling sorry for myself. And then one day, I don't know exactly when, I just got up and rebuilt my life. I moved into a new place, a new city, I landed a job that was the perfect fit for me. I got my first and only tattoo that has so much meaning to me. I tried to keep busy because, even now, alone time is the enemy. (a reason for my blogging hiatus)

During this time, he changed his phone number and email address. The few times that I did speak to him, it was about finances and the conversations were mostly one-sided and not pretty. He wasn't my husband. He cut ties with most of his friends. His family had completely cut me off. I knew nothing. I was still legally married but had no way of contacting my husband. After 6 months of this, I considered filing myself. But no, there was no way that I could do that. I didn't want a divorce. But I also didn't want to live this way. I put it off for as long as I could. When 8 months passed, I asked my lawyer to give me information about divorce paperwork. She did some research first and found that he had already filed. In fact, my divorce was set to be final a week from then, unless I contested.

How was that possible? How is it possible for him to end a marriage without my consent? Without even my acknowledgment? I would have never known if my lawyer hadn't called.

I had just a few days to decide if I wanted to contest so that my lawyer could draw up the paperwork. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I cried. I begged. I would have done anything. Ultimately, I realized that fighting the divorce would only be just that, fighting. And don't mishear me. I was willing to fight. But I needed some kind of hope and at that point, he had given me none. And just like that, it was final.

Soon after, a friend of his gave me some information about his whereabouts for the past several months. He had started a downward spiral and was not planning to stop it anytime soon. He lost friends. He lost respect. Even his appearance shows this. He almost immediately replaced me and replaced Duke, even before the divorce was final. He's living a lifestyle that I wouldn't have agreed to. Although it hurt like hell, I'm so grateful for his friend who told me this. This person is still the only person who has given me ANY type of information about my husband. It's the only bit of closure that I've received.

The guy I know as my husband, died in June 2013. He doesn't exist anymore. I miss him everyday. I want to call him, but I can't. He's not there. I still smile when something reminds me of him or a moment that we had together. Since the beginning, I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear. (Martin Luther King, Jr. - a quote that I repeat to myself daily) I choose to remember my husband, not the man that he has become.

I started drafting this months ago and now over a year has passed and I still haven't pressed publish. I know that my story today is different than the one I would have told a year ago or 6 months ago. Today, I'm writing it without tears, without hope for a marriage with him, without worry of the anger he might have if he reads this.

I've been a pretty inactive blogger the past year. Mostly because I couldn't think of anything to write except what was actually going on in my life. And I was too embarrassed and ashamed to share that.

But without thinking twice about it, I wrote about my baby Duke. I've been so amazed by the love and support and feedback that I've received from that post. I've never felt like I've touched so many people with my words as I do with that one post. Duke was a major part of my healing process through this. He immediately became my focus, my distraction, my everything.

Just like Duke helped me touch and comfort others, I hope this post does too. Maybe I will press publish today.