I’ve cherished the same man for nearly two decades. His name is Alex, and he has striking dark hair and deep brown eyes. I’ve only seen him clean-shaven once, and frankly, I prefer him with a beard; he’s undeniably attractive.
Alex has a relaxed demeanor, especially when my anxiety flares up. While I tend to chatter incessantly at social events, he often remains quiet and observant. He’s a night owl who wakes up early, whistling cheerfully as soon as he’s out of bed. On the other hand, I need at least thirty minutes of silence before I can engage with anyone in the morning, and I require a solid eight hours of sleep to function well.
He truly is the yin to my yang.
Fifteen years ago, we were excited to tie the knot. We quickly decided to start a family right after our wedding, yearning for children close in age. And now, three kids later, we both agree that we would be happier living separate lives.
My love for him remains, but it has transformed over the years. It’s not strong enough to keep our marriage intact, yet it still exists. He was there for the births of our children, and together, we’ve built a home. We’ve supported each other through illness and loss, and despite the challenges we’ve faced, we’ve shared enough love to forgive each other’s mistakes. Now, we’re using the remnants of that love to part ways amicably.
As we tried to strengthen our bond, we only found ourselves drifting further apart. It became clear that change was necessary.
Two months ago, Alex moved out. After a few weeks of solitude, I took a much-needed getaway with my best friend. We indulged in massages, explored various shops, and shared countless laughs. We would often sit in the car for a while, hand on the door handle, reluctant to end our conversation.
While browsing in a bookstore, I was flipping through a poetry collection when I received a photo from Alex. He had transformed our kitchen by removing the cabinets and tiling it up to the ceiling—exactly as I had always envisioned. It was a project I had long urged him to undertake, but we never got around to it.
Inspired by his decision to surprise me, I had been planning to hire contractors for the renovation, but he took the initiative while I was away. I found a quiet corner in the bookstore and allowed myself to cry for a few minutes—not out of sadness, but because I was touched that we still held love for each other during this transition, perhaps even more than we did before.
I care deeply for Alex, and a part of me always will, but our marriage is over. Most of the time, I feel empowered by our decision; I know we’re doing what’s best for us. Yet, there are moments that sting, like when I visit the grocery store and the familiar clerk comments on my reduced purchases, or when I stop by a jewelry store and the attendant notices I’m not wearing my rings.
However, I remind myself of what a fantastic father Alex is, and I recognize that our separation doesn’t have to lead to heartache. He will always be there for our children, and more importantly, we will always be a family.
The initial sting fades, and I come to terms with not buying that steak, while I don’t get emotional over diamonds anymore. I still love him for the good person he is. I value our conversations after a long day of navigating life as a single mother in my 40s. He listens and genuinely cares. Alex will always be an integral part of my life.
Our family may look different now, but that doesn’t mean our love has vanished. While it wasn’t enough to sustain our marriage, it is certainly sufficient to foster a happy family dynamic.
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Summary
The author reflects on their long-standing love for their husband, Alex, while acknowledging that their marriage has come to an end. Despite the emotional challenges of separation, they maintain a deep affection for him and emphasize the importance of their family structure.