My ex-husband, Max, has brown eyes and long, black eyelashes. (I always said those eyelashes were wasted on a man.) Through our eight years together, I saw his eyes light up with joy. I saw them darken with secrecy. I saw them dull with shock and denial.
This time, I was seeing something I had not seen before. Could it be fear?
Max stood in front of me, shifting his weight, fidgeting his hands. He stood seven inches taller than me, but felt smaller. What was going on? We have been divorced for two years. What on earth was there for him to say to me that could reduce him to this?
“Kat,” his voice quivering ever so slightly, “I have to tell you something.”
“OK…” I replied. “Go ahead. You can tell me anything.”
“Well, we are engaged…”
Engaged?! I didn’t even know he was dating someone. In fact, I had assumed he hadn’t even kissed anyone since me. We got divorced because of his lack of desire for sex, so it didn’t occur to me that he would even want to date. He was so resistant to working on himself when we were in therapy. But I guessed this was good, right? Maybe this means he was coping with his problems and moving on? I can be brave and make myself happy for my ex-husband.
But there was more.
“…because she’s pregnant.”
Oh god. No. No. No!
Everything started flashing. I couldn’t breathe. My stomach filled with ice.
We were supposed to have children together. We were going to be amazing parents. When he took away sex, he took away our shared vision of parenthood. How the fuck could he already be in a romantic relationship complete with physical intimacy? Seven out of our eight years together I was desperate for intimacy. Five out of our eight years together we were in therapy. I wanted him to want me, and for seven years, he rejected me.
Now I’m 35, single, and unsure if motherhood is something that even makes sense for me anymore. All because my husband would not (could not?) make love to his wife.
And now some other woman is pregnant with the child that was supposed to be mine?! It was more than I could bear. Like a pipe filling with ice, I was on the verge of bursting, a flood of fury and sadness and longing and jealousy.
I dropped my head in my hands as vertigo set in.
“This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real!” I shrieked.
I couldn’t tell if the words were firing in my brain or if they were escaping my mouth.
I couldn’t tell if the words were firing in my brain or if they were escaping my mouth.
Then, I woke up.
My heart was pounding and tears hovered in my tear ducts. I was all alone in my bed.
My heart was pounding and tears hovered in my tear ducts. I was all alone in my bed.
I was right. It wasn't real.
How do you feel about your ex moving on? Are you happy for him or her?
How do you feel about your ex moving on? Are you happy for him or her?
