Breaking Up Is Hard To Do Part 2

I hung up the phone and felt an overwhelming sense of loss. Going through with the divorce meant that it was truly over. Forever. I was devastated and enraged at the same time. How could he do this to me? To us? To unilaterally make this decision without any input from me, with no warning and no regard for the feelings of the many people it would adversely effect? What a selfish piece of crap! On the other end of the spectrum was the knowledge that if I hadn't been deployed, we would still be together. The heartache that goes along with giving every ounce of your soul to someone KNOWING it wasn't misplaced and then to be let down so spectacularly.

To say I was devastated would be an understatement. I had only known this kind of heartbreak once before, with my first husband, but at least he had the guts to be honest with me. He didn't string me along making me believe everything was okay. He refused to live a lie and was honorable enough to let me go. I can't say the same for my current husband. It seems he had been carrying on his affair for a month. Maybe longer. Telling me the whole time that he loved me more than anything and that we were going to be so happy when I got home.

After a few months, my despair began to turn into determination. At that moment on December 11th, I had everything taken away from me - my husband, my home, my life and my power. I was completely helpless. What can I possibly do from 7,000 miles away? I was absolutely at his mercy. He was calling the shots and I had no control over my own life. Without consciously deciding it, I was determined that I was never going to let that happen again. Sure, I might get my heart broken again, but why put myself in the position to be screwed over?

First order of business, buy a car. In my fiscally responsible reasoning with my husband before I left, I told him we should not buy my car until after I returned home so that we weren't making a payment on something that wasn't being used. Now, I was without transportation. I spent a lot of time researching what I wanted and needed. I picked it out all by myself, and bought it.

Next on the list, a house. My mother (who was a saint and took over caring for my children) scrambled and found a 4 bedroom house for us to rent, complete with a dog. I was relieved because my kids were no longer sleeping on the dining room floor of my sister's dinky apartment, but it soon occurred to me that renting was just putting money in someone else's pocket and in the grand scheme of things I only had something to show for it 30 days at a time. I wanted to buy my own house. My own house means security. It means that even if every relationship I ever get into fails, I will always have my safe haven. Not to mention I want to have stability for my kids. Stability and a place where they can make lifelong friends. The search was on. I found it myself. I saw it. I loved it. I wanted it. I'm getting it. I close in September and I got an unimaginable deal.

As much as it sucked being left in the worst and most cowardly way possible, it truly has made me a stronger, more self-assured person. I know what I want, and I'm going to get it, and no one can stop me.

P.S. I have been home from Iraq for 3 months tomorrow and I still haven't seen the man I'm married to. He avoids me like the plague because he's a coward. It's just another demonstration of his lack of character. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm much better off.