So, I’ve moved. I actually left Houston 17 days ago this morning.
I told J that I wanted our goodbye before I moved 1000 miles away to be special, to be magical.
He divided our goodbye into the two Thursdays before I moved.
He took me to see the koi in a koi pond in The Woodlands on October 2, where he’d taken me months prior for the most magical day we shared when I thought he wanted to be in a relationship with me.
That was very special to return to that place where I felt the most in love I had after my divorce, where I learned that my heart wasn’t too damaged to love again.
He took me back to the Downtown Aquarium in Houston on October 9.
The last time, in late 2024, we just went to the stingrays to touch them because the tickets to see the actual aquarium were very expensive.
Since then, he got a new job making almost 50% more per hour than he did before, where he no longer has to DoorDash to make ends meet.
After we finished visiting the aquarium, he took me to the fancy seafood restaurant that was attached to the aquarium. We watched sharks swimming in a tank that made up a wall in the restaurant while I had the most delicious shrimp platter I’ve ever had.
I also got a shark souvenir cup that now watches over me in my kitchen.
I’m still wearing the entry wristband for the aquarium, over 2 weeks later. I’m not ready to take it off yet, to acknowledge I’m never seeing him again, that I left the last 13 years of my life behind in Houston – both good and bad.
He was the only thing that made me happy at the end, the only thing that I looked forward to.
When he left on the night of October 9, he played ‘End of the Road’ by Boyz II Men while we were lying in bed together cuddling, while I was crying an endless stream of tears that didn't dry up until long after he left to go to work.
It made me wonder what he meant by that particular song, if he’d actually had feelings for me that just hadn’t culminated in a relationship.
When I said goodbye to Houston for the final time on October 10, my parents arrived 2 hours earlier than they originally planned – at 6am.
My ex-husband wasn’t awake since I’d told him 8am, and while I did call him to let him know my parents were there and that we were loading the cargo trailer, he didn’t arrive at the house before my parents and I headed out.
I honestly think it might have been easier that way, that I didn’t have what would have been a very difficult goodbye, to say a final farewell to the man I loved for 17 years and was married to for 13.
Seeing him wearing his new wedding band after he hadn’t worn one for me for the 13 years we were married cut me deeper than I’d ever tell him.
J showed up the morning I left to see me off before I headed out, to hug me tight for long moments for the last time and meet my mom briefly.
I didn’t cry while we drove away, while I watched Houston and my entire life disappear into the distance through the rear view mirror.
I've cried since then, though, mostly alone in my trailer away from my family with my cats who came with me.
Moving up to Indiana has been… a lot.
Leaving behind the 16 months of social isolation I went through Houston has been a breath of fresh air, something I desperately needed.
Leaving behind a house full of the ghosts of my marriage and my ex-husband was something I needed more than I realized.
However, leaving J and one of my cats behind has been much harder than I thought it would be.
My ex-husband has been keeping me updated on Little Kitty, and he’s gotten to experience first hand how old and… tired she’s become over the last 16 months that I cared for her after he moved out. She’s 14 now. The average indoor cat lives to be 13 to 17. I know he’ll realize before too long that it might be time to say goodbye. It will be heartbreaking even from so far away.
I’ve been chatting with J some online, but he’s busy with work, and sometimes I’m not quite sure what to say. Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll tell him that I love him and that leaving him behind was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
I had that little flicker of hope that maybe someday he’d change his mind about me, that we’d be in love and happy together. That’s been extinguished with my move to start over again 1000 miles away, and my heart aches for the loss of it.
I’ve been plagued by dreams of my ex-husband and J, of so many “what if” scenarios that make me wake up in tears.
I’m actually up right now at 3:30am because I had yet another dream about the happiness of 15 years ago when I was a newlywed. Life felt so bright and hopeful. I wasn’t defeated and broken, barely dragging myself forward, bloody and bruised and uncertain if it will ever actually get better, and I won’t be teetering on the brink of never wanting to wake up again and actually acting on that.
I had hoped to get into the counseling I desperately need soon after I moved up here, but my insurance situation is more complicated than I originally anticipated after talking to the insurance company before I moved. The lady who I talked to in September had been wrong in what she told me, and now I’m not allowed to have anything happen to me until January when my new coverage will begin.
Other than that, I’m still unpacking and trying to get my 248 sq ft sorted out. It’s so little space that trying to sort it out makes the entire trailer a mess. I’m working on getting my wardrobe sorted out right now. I needed to get some more hangers and grippy shelf liner to put into the cubbies so they aren’t so slick, and clothes folded in them won’t slide around. I have both of those things now, so it’s just a matter of finishing it up and starting on the next project.
I have ADHD, and I haven’t been able to get my medication due to a shortage, so it’s been a struggle of a dozen half completed tasks and bigger mess than there needs to be. The chaos makes me feel so much worse, and resolving it is very difficult.
So, yeah. That's life right now.