So, I have been putting off writing this post, as it meant opening a wound up that wasn’t quite knitted; but my story needs to be told for those wounds to heal. I’ve had to split it over 2 posts as its so long.

If you have followed this blog from my first post, you will know that my husband walked out of my life and our marriage on NYE 2016 & I haven’t seen him since, nor do I want to.

For 3 miserable weeks following that night; I gave him space and time like he wanted, for him to ‘decide’ what he wanted: except he will say I didn’t give him time and space, that because I would call and try to talk to him, that I dared to send him a letter that calmly pointed out how I did love him but his behaviour was not acceptable and things needed to change. I stayed in limbo land at my parents; living out of a suitcase of clothes I’d bought up with me for the Christmas break and having to go out and buy what I needed, all the time awaiting a call or text that never came.

I went and saw a counsellor, something the ex said I needed to do, yet after sitting talking to her for an hour; i was advised that she didn’t think i did need any help, that i knew what i needed to do, and i did, so i started planning.

Things came to head when the ex received the letter I’d wrote; we spoke on the phone a few days later and what started off as a normal conversation, ended with him screaming abuse and accusations down the phone at me and parents, who sat in a stunned silence: they hadn’t seen this side of him before; whereas i had and it was like a weight off my shoulders, they finally got to see/hear the side of him that i had to live with, and it wasn’t pretty, but they now knew and understood.

I asked him there and then, if the marriage was over, and he stated it was, and that was it, end of call. So there we were, I finally had my answer, now what though? Sit and crumple into a heap and weep, or start planning and quickly… i went for option B.

I knew I’d have to get my stuff out as soon as possible, with as little drama as we could manage, I also knew that heartbreakingly i would have hand my fur babies (cats) back to the rescue they came from; they couldnt come live with me at my parents as it wasnt practical or fair on them or the existing pets in the house.

So over the course of the next few days, i started planing my new life, i cancelled all my direct debits & re-set them up on my own account, had my name taken off the joint bank account, arranged with the rescue to take the cats back and quietly planned with friends about when we would go get my stuff; i told the ex it would be the following weekend, i didn’t tell him that cats would be going aswell; they were MY babies, and he could hardly care for himself, plus they would be something he could & would use and hold against me; a reason for me to stay in contact with him.

What me and 2 friends had actually arranged, was that we could go down to Plymouth that following Monday, while my ex was (hopefully) at work and get my stuff and be gone before he came home, One friend from here would share the drive there and back with me, and the other was one who lived in Plymouth, and would meet us there.

So we had a plan, it was all arranged and a plan set in action……. but i was still hoping for a phone call or text that would mean i could cancel that plan, and try and fix the broken pieces yet again, but that call or text never came.

In fact i rang him the night before we wnt to get my stuff; i was careful to sound normal and not to let anything slip; we talked calmly and partially fondly, but even then he didn’t say what i needed or thought i wanted to hear, and i believe it was at that point that my heart truly broke and i saw him for what he really was, and that i deserved so much better.

So operation ‘Get Laura’s stuff out’ was happening.

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