But day after day, night after night, it hit me like a billion little shards of glass how much this was hurting them. And even though my reasons for needing to move away, for needing to break away from her, for needing to find a way to start over, for needing to make a new life on my own were all right and true and good, I just could not, could not, ever seem to be able to justify it to my children.
And I tried. I did. I rationalized it six ways from Sunday, I did. But as a parent, I think you find that even when your oh-so-intelligent and wisely witty answers to the constant barrage of "why," "why," "whys" begin to circle back to the same answer, the battle is done.
So I posted to my Twitter and Facebook a link to the concept of Occam's Razor last week as I was struggling and aching and knee-deep in the middle of this dilemma. And it's been pounding in my head since then.
The simplest explanation is often the right one.
But whether or not I could actually apply it to our situation was a whole 'nother story.
Could that really work? Could I swallow this pill? The pit in the middle of my stomach was growing every second. Everything felt wrong. Every decision meant someone was going to be hurt. What do I do? What should I do? What's the right thing to do?
And then it happened.
I took myself out of the equation.
And the answer was clear.
And I felt a sudden wave of relief. And I saw it in their eyes when I told them. Because they were bursting, just bursting with what I really can only describe as joy, and I don't use that word. But I felt it in the air between us. All of us. And I knew, somehow, that it was right, would be right...someday.
And no, it doesn't mean I don't recognize that I still need to find a way to heal, that I need to ensure that we're all getting what we need out of this, and that the lemonade still has to be sweetened.
I get that. I do.
But today, my family is happy. And there's not much I wouldn't give for that.