People - My Runaway Husband Was a Blessing

By: Yvonne

Sometime around 11 AM on February 10, 2021, my husband of 30+ years shuffled upstairs from his basement man cave, sat on the couch next to me, and announced that he wanted a divorce. He had already consulted with a divorce attorney and the news came as a rude shock; especially as the announcement was made in front of our 25-year-old daughter, (who promptly burst into tears).

A few minutes later, he walked out of our home for good, his head bowed, averting my gaze, towing his rolling suitcase behind him with a pillow tucked under his arm.

First I felt numb. Then, I felt outraged!

It was true that the love and attraction we felt for each other in the early years of our relationship had withered over 30 years of marriage. We lacked the communication skills needed to amicably discuss and resolve the big and little conflicts that inevitably arise for any couple living together and raising children together.

To “keep the peace” and avoid upsetting ourselves and our children with arguments and conflicts, we slept separately and lived like roommates for most of our marriage. Even so, I rationalized that we were at least there for each other, helping and supporting each other with the tasks of daily life and maintaining a home. Above all, I wanted our children to be raised in a stable home with a mother and father they could count on to be there for them. I did not want our son or daughter to face the heartbreak and trauma of having to shuttle between two parental homes or feel divided loyalties between their mother and their father.

My outrage intensified when I realized he had been carrying on an emotional affair behind my back with a woman he had known decades earlier during his high school days. He had been chatting with her over Facebook for several years and I had no clue that he had fallen in love with her. I felt betrayed.

Unravelling a lifetime together

Four years prior — the year our son graduated college — my husband was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. I accompanied him to his medical appointments and chemotherapy infusions, then one day he developed pleural effusion; a buildup of fluid that compressed his lungs. He could barely breathe and I drove him to the Hospital ER where his doctor informed me he would have died had I waited any longer to get him there. My actions had saved his life, but I had no idea that event was a crossroads for us both.

Following our separation, financial settlement forced the sale of our dream home, which we had had built for our growing family 25 years earlier. The task of preparing the home for sale fell on my shoulders alone, as did finding the tens of thousands of dollars required for repairs and cosmetic improvements. In the span of 9 months, I purged our accumulated belongings, secured a trustworthy real estate agent to handle the sale, and found a new home at a time when post-pandemic rentals were scarce and rents were twice the cost of our monthly mortgage.

Small Mercies

It was during this period that a website client of mine shared that one of her friends was going through an identical situation, and that there was a Facebook community that brought together women like myself, who had been abandoned and with no forewarning by ‘Runaway Husbands’. Reading their stories gave me comfort as I realized that I was in the company of thousands of others - who had suddenly and without forewarning - been abandoned after decades of marriage. Comparing their stories to mine, I realized I had much to be thankful for.

Our children were adults when my husband left me, so there would be no complicated child support, custody agreements or alimony agreements to negotiate. I wasn’t rich but I also wasn’t destitute. And I had a network of friends who provided me with emotional support, faith and encouragement during the moments when I felt terrified for my future.

In the end, the real estate agent negotiated a healthy sale price for our home, and my share provided the financial cushion I needed to live comfortably until I figured out my next steps.

Two years later, I stood at the foot of my ex-husband’s deathbed. His lung cancer had combined with heart disease and his family and close colleagues gathered around him to say their farewells. To my surprise, he looked directly at me and said for all to hear: “I fucked up!”

His apology was, as they say, “a dollar short and a day late”, but I felt gratified that he at least acknowledged the pain he had put me through during his final hours. It gave me a sense of closure, while helping me to let him go.

Finding Me

It hasn’t been easy, but I have made new friends in the city I moved to following our divorce and his passing. I have lovely neighbors on either side, and I have found new purpose by volunteering with The Haven of Northern Virginia; an emotional support for people grieving the death of a loved one.

I am no longer living a life of pretense with a man who didn’t — or wasn’t able to — love me the way I wanted and needed to be loved. Although life can be lonely as a single sixty-something woman, I can say for certain that the emotional abandonment I lived with daily during our unfulfilling marriage was harder to live with than the occasional loneliness I experience living alone today.

I hope that by sharing my story in such an open manner, others who are facing a similar experience will gain a sense of hope. Loss isn’t easy and it is painful, but with time you can rebuild your identity; even after your crystal castle has been shattered and your truth called into question through deceipt.