As of last Tuesday I’ve been separated/divorced from my husband for two years and three months. The nice guy had been divorced for 9 years.
The nice guy was ready to be married. I still haven’t taken the time to look at and work on myself after getting divorced.
The nice guy is a Christian man in a strong and steady walk with God. I am a Christian of two years, still feeling my way through, early in the journey.
The nice guy has four children. Three grown and out of the house, one a teenage girl who is with him 45% of the time. I have two children, both younger than 18. The youngest of my children lives with me primarily, the oldest with his father.
The nice guy’s youngest daughter adored me. My youngest son hated him. He hated him for no good reason, and he would tell you that, if you asked. His reason was simply that it was different, not his dad and he didn’t like it. (To his credit he admitted that he didn’t like any of the parade of girlfriends his dad had had either).
Primarily because of the child issue I chose early on in our relationship to separate my two worlds. I would see nice guy on the weekends I didn’t have my children and one night during the week. It worked for me, kept things peaceful and happy.
Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on the day and how I choose to look at it, the nice guy wanted more and knew it wasn’t possible to have more.
He told me I was the love of his life. That he loved me more than he had ever loved any woman, including the woman he had been married to for so many years. However, though I was the love of his life he felt as though he was never going to get the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, because my two worlds did not coincide. He was right.
Had I been six years post-divorce I may have done things differently, but I wasn’t six years post-divorce, and neither were my children.
I will not force my children to deal with something that they are not ready to deal with, quite frankly because deep in my heart I knew the nice guy was not my future. Yet I didn’t have the courage to say stop the ride I want to get off.
Why couldn’t I do that, after I was able to stand up and say I want a divorce?