Divorce Diaries: The Silent Struggles We Don't Talk About

It’s late at night, and I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the tears well up again. I tell myself not to cry, that I’ve cried enough over this, over him, over everything we lost. But it’s no use. The tears come anyway, hot and bitter, a mix of sadness, anger, and something else I can’t quite name.

I’m angry—angry at him for letting us fall apart, angry at myself for not fighting harder, for not being enough. And then there’s this new anger, this rage that bubbles up when I think about how unfair it all is. I didn’t want to be divorced. I didn’t want to be alone, trying to figure out who I am without him.

But it’s not just anger. There’s fear too. I’m terrified that I’ll never be able to love again, that I’ll be stuck in this limbo, forever torn between the past and the present. I’m scared that I’ll never be able to trust anyone the way I trusted him, that every relationship from here on out will be tainted by what we had and what we lost.

I miss him. I hate that I miss him. I hate that after everything, there’s still this part of me that wants to call him, to hear his voice, to pretend that everything is okay. But it’s not okay. It hasn’t been okay for a long time.

And then there’s this new person, someone who’s trying so hard to make me happy, to be the balm for all the wounds I carry. But I’m afraid I’ll ruin this too, that I’ll bring all my baggage, all my hurt, into something that should be clean, fresh, new.

I’m torn. Torn between wanting to move on and being unable to let go. Torn between the love I knew and the love I’m trying to find. I don’t know how to untangle myself from this mess of emotions, how to find peace in the midst of all this chaos.

Every day feels like a battle, a constant struggle between what was and what is. I want to be whole again, to feel like myself, but I don’t know who that is anymore. I’m scared that I’ll never find her, that I’ll be lost in this sea of grief and anger and fear forever.

And so I lie here, in this empty bed, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me, wondering if I’ll ever be able to breathe again.