"Most things break, including hearts. The lessons of life amount not to wisdom, but to scar tissue and callus."
- Wallace Stegner
My wife just called. She's going to look at an apartment. Although I've been expecting this moment, I now find that I'm not prepared.
I'm a zombie. I walk through the office and smile at the people I pass by, but they don't know that I'm dying inside. I want to go somewhere and cry, but I can't.
I know I have to let her go. I know that if there's any way she'll ever come back, she has to find what she's looking for. For me, it is the all-consuming question, and I'm terrified of the answer. I can't remember when I've ever been this alone or afraid.
I'll see her tonight for my daughter's birthday, and when I do, I'll do my best to put on that same smiling face that greets my new coworkers. Later tonight, when the kids are in bed, and she is gone, I'll listen to some music, reflect, and try to cry it out. Tomorrow is another day.