I sat there waiting. Foot tapping. Serious face. Angered soul. It was shaping up to be the second time I sat in this office alone, when there should have been two of us. We started counseling to try and save something that, quite frankly, didn’t have anything left. This was proof.
If you find yourself sitting alone in a marriage counselor’s office, you have your answer. You’re the last one remaining in that relationship. Run. Skip. Jog. Do whatever you can to get out of the failure and emptiness that surrounds you.
You sit there seeking answers to questions that have already been answered by the actions of others, or in this case the lack thereof.
I sat there watching the door, knowing full well no one I knew was walking through it. I’m not sure if it was irritational hope, the fear of failure, or possibly both that kept me sitting there. I was angry. I was frustrated. I was disappointed. I was wasting my time, which angered me more.
I had all the answers and proof I needed, even before entering these doors. I simply needed to accept them. I needed to stop running from my reality and start comprehending it. I needed to stop settling and realize that the life I thought I was living, the life others thought I was living, was really just a rouse. It was really just something packaged nicely, but on the inside resembled disgust, lies, and filth.
No one ever walked through the doors. There wasn’t some miracle. There wasn’t a redemption or a saved marriage. But there was a saved woman. A completely different person walked out of those doors. You see, that single person who attended marriage therapy alone, she used that hour to discuss a strategy and a goal for the future. She used it to stand firm in her convictions.
That was the day I stopped waiting for people who never deserved the patience and time I had been giving them. I stopped putting things on hold for others who wouldn’t do the same for me.
I stopped trying to save him, and started saving myself.
I started demanding the life I deserved.
And one day I got it.