Before It All Fell Apart

Dear Vic,

Our marriage began to unravel during those few difficult months in 2020 - right after I returned to work, following 18 months of maternity leave after Kenzo was born. It was the peak of COVID. Job security was fragile. We were brand-new parents after 18 years of being just a couple - and the pressure was immense.

In that short, fragile window of time, you said things to me that cut so deeply. Words I couldn’t unhear. Words that drove me to the edge. I spiraled into a mental and emotional collapse. My body broke out in hives for months. My spirit stayed bruised for years.

Kenzo suffered too. He was only a toddler, yet he witnessed the tension between us - arguments that lingered all the way to his second birthday. It took everything in me - the kind of strength only a mother could summon - to make the decision to walk away.

Not because I stopped loving you… but because I had to protect myself. And more than anything, I had to protect him.

We spent five years apart. And in that time, our conflict only deepened in ways I never imagined. We clashed over so much - how to parent, how to care, how to communicate. But one thing we never disagreed on was our love for Kenzo. You showed it your way, I showed it mine - but it was always there.

You once asked if we could still do things together for Kenzo’s sake - because he loved having both his parents in the same room. And I know that during our final mediation in March, I vented about always being the one covering the bills. I said it out of frustration - not to hurt you. But I think you took it to heart. 

Only after you passed… did I discover just how far you had pushed me away.

You had blocked me on Facebook for a number of years.

It felt like a punch to the chest. I didn’t know. And it hurt more than I expected.
Did you really hate me that much?

So now I sit here - six weeks after you’ve gone - still crying, still aching, and asking myself:
Why am I grieving so deeply for someone who once hurt me so much?

Why is it that now, all I seem to remember are the good times?
The laughter. The warmth. The little moments.
Not the fights, the tension, or the slow way we drifted apart?

I don’t have the answers. Maybe I never will.

But I miss you.

I miss who we used to be - before it all fell apart. 

— N

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