Because I promise you, divorce was never on my bucket list and yet, somehow, there it is.
Scribbled in thick black, a
Taunting me, reminding me that I did that, I chose that, I even wanted that.
That happened; you crossed that one off the list.
I have that t-shirt and
I fear it was hastily tattooed across my forehead... thick black letters.
I married him, because I loved him.
I married him, because we had dreams and goals, and we wanted the same things.
I married him, because I thought we'd spend our entire lives together.
I didn't say, I will, thinking- someday, I'll divorce you.
We became different people.
War changes you-
War changed him and
War changed me.
And somehow, we ended up strangers at the end of 7 years. We still wanted the same things, deep down... but we disagreed on how to get there. We'd pushed each other so far that compromise was out of the question.
Divorce became an option the first, third, twelfth time one of us threatened to leave at any sign of trouble. I can't recall who said it first, but through the years, we've both given our fair share of ultimatums.
I was tired of the ultimatums. I was tired of our unwillingness to compromise. I was tired of being drug through the mud, and I was tired of dragging through the mud. I was tired of the begging and pleading and yelling and... something had to stop. Someone had to break the cycle.
The constant push and pull (the daily struggle of responsibility, the issue of intimacy, the lack of communication, the demands of the Army, the things we saw and heard and went through because of the Army, the strain on our families because we lived overseas) killed our relationship. We backed ourselves into a corner, and
I can't change him.
He can't change me.
We are who we are because of what we've been through...
And we've been through war...
And when you've been through war, the things that weren't even option before, suddenly become the opportunity you never knew you needed...