“It’s the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do
To look you in the eye
And tell you I don’t love you
It’s the hardest thing I’ll ever have to lie
To show no emotion when you start to cry
I can’t let you see what you mean to me
When my hands are tied and my hearts not free
We’re not meant to be
It’s the hardest thing
I’ll ever had to do
To turn around and walk away pretending I don’t love you” (The Hardest Thing by 98 Degrees, 1999)
All this week, these lyrics have been swimming in my head as I prepare for a new future that I never wanted. I have known for a while that it was inevitable, despite my efforts to stop it. Perhaps I am at fault. Perhaps he is. Perhaps neither of us is. Does it really matter who is at fault when it’s over?
To be clear, I’m doing this for the children. Growing up in a toxic environment is devastating to the mental health of children. I know from experience. I never wanted my children to go through that. And yet, here we are, in a toxic household because someone always has to be at fault and someone always has to be right.
We were supposed to carry each other through our dark moments, and we did, but we did it kicking and screaming the whole way. Somewhere along the way, we lost respect for each other. We let our families get in the way. We let life’s curveballs tear us apart.
It was supposed to be the two of us, together until the end. That’s the hardest part. Knowing I wasn’t enough. And losing a child in the process. But in a way, we are both losing a child, so that pain is mutual.
I’ve made my mistakes. I said some things that never should have left my mouth. I’ve done some things I will never forgive myself for. For that, I can never apologize enough. But it’s too little, too late, and one sided.
I can only hope that whatever happens next, we will each find happiness. I hope my boys know that I did this for them. They deserve a calm and nurturing household. We cannot give that to them together.
For the record, no, this isn’t a post to him. I know he won’t even read it. He never does and never will, I’m sure. I believe I was always more invested in his interests than he was of mine. And that is okay. It doesn’t really matter now. But I wanted to say some things, and I have this platform to express myself.
Emotions demand to be felt. So I am feeling them. During this time of transition, I may cry. I may be sad. I may scream and curse and swear and demand resolution. I will get through this. I will be okay eventually. But for now, if you see me crying, the answer is No, I’m not okay. But I will be.
Until next time,
Cathy Marie Bown
Cathy Marie Bown 