The perfect fit

The house is quiet—the crashing ocean, the curtains gently blowing with the breeze and the night-time creatures singing their songs, the…

The house is quiet—the only sounds occasionally overpowering the sound of my keyboard as I type this are the distant crashing ocean, the rustle of the curtains gently blowing against the bed from the light breeze and the night-time creatures singing their songs.

The kids are asleep, my wife is too, the echo of her occasional cough reverberating down the passage from her bedroom into mine…

In a post-modern world, where (married) couples don’t always share a bed or room—or late night working geeks, like myself would, occasionally work from another (spare) bed instead of the office—this usually wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, except we were not that kind of couple, and I am not working late in the spare room, I am writing this article, in my bed, in my room…

She’s naturally warm, and on cold(er) winter nights that embrace was even more welcoming. And as the nights start getting colder, the spare pillow on my bed, in my room down the passage that I am about to “cuddle” just doesn’t have the same effect.

I love(d) sharing a bed with my wife. I loved hearing and feeling the soothing rhythm of her breathing while cuddling up to her as she fell gently asleep — my leg over hers, her hand in mine as I wrapped my arm around her small frame with my head half-on-her-pillow-half-on-mine and the (always amazing) smell of her hair lulling me into a deep slumber: the perfect fit.

Today is one of the 3 anniversaries we share. It will just be another day though, just like our last (6th) wedding anniversary in November last year. There will be no fanfare, no gifts or special meals…

We are in the final stages of getting a divorce—the separated but pre-separate-houses stage—so all I can do is think (and write) about it now, and the more I think about this whole ordeal, the more I realise that falling asleep next to my wife is one of the things I will miss the most.

Getting the divorce is a joint decision, albeit one I am more inclined to say I don’t want, but one that I know is the right decision (at least now). Some days though, I have my doubts. It doesn’t help when a close friend of both of ours says we’re doing the wrong thing.

But if there is one nugget of advice I have learned that sticks, is that if its something that both partners are not willing to risk and fight for, then it’s never really going to work, is it.

We’ve been down this road before. Separate houses, co-parenting living arrangements for the boys that allows for the boys to see the both of us as often as possible, whilst giving us the space we need to figure things out. It’s not ideal, but it works, and it seems like the boys are starting to get used to the idea of mommy and daddy’s (separate) bedroom(s).

I won’t miss the crazy fights, the screaming and shouting or the guilt I would feel as I looked into her swollen red eyes, makeup running down her face, as I realised that it had gone too far again. That we had both been on the edge, and jumped like a skydiver out of a plane at 8000 feet.

It’s an awkward feeling, walking to wherever she is to speak to her, rather than calling her by her name, from another room, because the feeling of calling her by her name running off my tongue just doesn’t feel right.

I suppose it’s because for close on 7 years I have never really called her by her name, so maybe it’s an adjustment, or maybe it’s because it’s wrong.

I know I am going to miss her though. I miss her now, even though we’re in the same house. Yet some days I long for the finality of it to actually happen, so that I can start to really deal with it. I think that is when it is going to hit me the most.

What exactly will hit me, I am not sure, but whatever it is, it is going to be hard.