The Beginning of an End

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. The road was covered with ice and I could feel our tires skid out as we rounded the corner of each switchback. I think Sam could see a bit of anxiety and nervousness on my face.

“If it’s too much, just turn around. This is supposed to be a relaxing weekend,” he said.

“I’m fine,” I retorted in quick repose.

He was right, though. This was supposed to be a relaxing weekend, one of our last. I wanted one last good memory before I told him that I was leaving him; one final fondness together, before I dropped a bomb on him that would forever change our lives. I imagined it was probably a lot like Hiroshima in July 1945, before that fateful day the following August.

I remember the day so clearly. The day I decided it was over. A few months back, we were hiking a fourteener and nothing was right. I tried to be positive, but each time I commented on the beautiful day, or the exquisite views, I was always met with adversity. Either his shoes weren’t fitting right; his backpack kept slipping; or it was just too windy. Eventually, he said that he was turning around…

“You finish up. I’m going back to the car,” he said.

“Are you sure? It may take a while.”

“Yes. Fine. Take your time.”

I wondered if he secretly wanted me to turn around with him, but that wasn’t going to happen. I had been waiting for this day and I wasn’t turning around now. I plugged my earbuds in and put on some fun, eighties music. The moment he left me there, I was free. I immersed myself in the climb, enjoying each ascent, no matter how steep the struggle. The air felt crisper; there was a bounce to my step and I challenged myself at each new section. I felt strong, capable, present.

When I summited the peak, I was overcome by Awe. This was the most difficult summit I had ever traversed, but I conquered it like a pro. No, like a boss! I gazed at my triumph and was completely satisfied. The beauty that surrounded me left me speechless, grateful. I felt alive. No one could take this from me, not even Sam. This was my day, and I didn’t want to leave.

As I began my descent, a herd of about 20 mountain goats surrounded me. In fact, a baby goat got so close to me that I could almost reach out and pet him. These friends joined me down the trail to treeline where they knew I’d be safe. I waved goodbye and with a smile of pure appreciation for this life, this day, this existence, I turned back toward the trail, heading to the car. Just at that moment, Aha’s ‘Take On Me’ began playing and I began to cry.

When I returned to the car, Sam was still in a terrible mood…

“What took you so long?” he asked.

I wouldn’t let his anger penetrate me. As we drove towards home, I could sense his frustration. He kept trying to pick a fight. First, my driving wasn’t good enough. Then, I chose the wrong route and there was too much traffic. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. I could see through his childish demeanor in the same way one sees through stained glass, his true colors showing. Yet again, I did not allow for his anger to become me.

When we got home, I ran a hot bath. I needed to be alone and I knew that would be the only way to find solace. As I sat in the hot water, beads of sweat rolling down my cheek, bubbles drawing around my knees, I realized something, a revelation so powerful that I began to cry. No, I began balling, weeping even. It was at that moment I realized how important I am in my own existence and thus, it was time for me to leave my husband, especially if I was going to have any chance of happiness within myself.

I started seeing a therapist shortly after, and to this day, he is the only other person in my life that knows how important this weekend is for me, and I am determined to make sure it happens just right. It has to happen. It needs to happen. As if somehow this weekend would erase the impending sorrow and grief as I ended a 15 year marriage. This was my logic. This was my gift to him, whether he would be able to see it or not.

We rounded the last switchback and could see the cabin straight ahead. In the back of my mind, all I could think was that this was it. After this weekend, we’ll be over. Part of me felt sad. It wasn’t like Sam was a bad husband or bad man, but I was changing, making no exceptions for the person I am becoming, for the life I need to live. He no longer fits in this purview, in this new version of myself. And it is sad. Part of me wished he would have grown with me, learned who he was, strove to be better. But it’s the choices we make that move us forward. No one else can do it for us. Only we have the ability to wake up, to become aware.

We parked the car, unpacked, and as I started dinner, Sam built a fire. There was a calmness to the air, a deafening silence that only screamed of imminent danger, a threat to which only I was privy. I looked down at my hand and I was shaky, shivering. This was it, the beginning of the end, and I was scared shitless.