Separation in the time of coronavirus

I look back, and I realize, this isn't the first time I decided I was done. It's the first time I've made it known, and set things up to ensure it. But it's not the first time.

The first time was when I conceded to (or pushed for? I don't even remember) counseling. I was ready to walk. We were not quite into 4 years of our relationship. I talked myself out of it. I kept thinking “he's not that bad of a guy.” I kept trying to convince myself that maybe my expectations were just too high. And it's not that I think I'm close to perfect. And being with someone exposes even more of our quirks, that are often seen as deficiencies. So, I went through the motions of counseling. Even told the counselor when he wasn't there that I had doubts and wondered if he was still lying. And she looked me in the eye and said “why do you think you feel that way?” I took that as her validating my concerns and beliefs, without coming out and saying that. And still I stayed. Hindsight is always a bitch. But had I not, I wouldn't have my kid. So...

The next time I was convinced? After years of lying about tobacco use. Yeah. Seems like a minor thing (and that's been his argument through all of these lying bouts — he only lied about “little” things). But I spent years stumbling across tins of chew. He chewed when we first met. It was gross. I still wonder how I ever agreed to hang out with him. Tons of containers filled with spit. Just gross. And then there's the fact that it's wasted money. On something that can kill you. Feeding an industry that's built on lying to people. There's not even a neutral aspect to it — it's all bad. But he quit. I pointed out the lying on medical forms (if he'd ever used tobacco), the possibility it could affect his health or shorten his life. The money. I barely touched on how disgusting it was. Then, he told me he quit. He did the gum. And money was spent on that. Then, a year or two later, I started seeing more tins. And spit receptacles. In his car, in the office, in random places. He insisted each one was “old” (from before he quit), or from when he was hanging out with a friend who still chewed. Can you guess the end of the story? Yep. Lies. Many. Years of them. He finally admitted he'd been lying for years.

I was ready right then. There had been other issues. But the lying. That's my linchpin. I vented to friends. But I also listened. A couple friends were in the middle of separating or divorcing. And the theme? Once you have kids and you get divorced, get comfy where you're living. Because the ability to move afterwards is severely hampered, or impossible.

I'd been unhappy with where we'd been living (politically and economically). Our kid had just started school in earnest. I wasn't loving what I saw. A starved public education system, being systematically drained by those in power. So, I adjusted my plan. I put a holding pattern on looking for a marriage escape plan. Just until we could move. Jobs were getting scarce, so it made sense on multiple levels. Find a better place for all of us. Then deal with everything else.