I’m sorry, husband, that I couldn’t figure out a way to continue to try and hold it all together.  That I couldn’t let being your caretaker be sufficient.  That I married you when maybe we didn’t love each other enough.  That I was too young and stubborn to recognize problems sooner.  That I blamed sex, infertility, finances, cancer, job woes and other interference for all the things that were actually wrong with us.  That you carried the weight of thinking you were a failure as a man.  That I wasn’t the wife you needed.

I’m sorry, Dad, that I can’t explain it better.  That you’re disappointed I ended up in some situation where I felt dependent and trapped.  That I’ve let you down so, so many times.  That you’re the one listening to me cry on some random afternoon.  That I can’t be all the things you wanted and hoped  for.  That the Katie you know and remember and love has gotten bitter and angry.  That I am not the beaming example of a perfect daughter.

I’m sorry, Mom, for keeping everything so private when you first saw the signs I was in pain.  That I didn’t reach out to you, even though you were there.  That I kept so much of myself from you because I thought there was no way you’d understand.  That I’m not as strong and resilient as you are.  That I can’t live up to the example you set.

I’m sorry, N, that you think I’m cruel and heartless.  That you think I’ve abandoned this man, this friend that you’ve known since I was in diapers.

I’m sorry, friend, that I lean on you.  That I can give you all the advice, but not take any of my own.

I’m sorry, brother, that you have to lose your connection to him;  That you feel you have to choose.

I’m sorry, Kate, that you aren’t stronger to withstand this exit with grace.  That you still weep silently.  That all the little things you have to do to leave are so much harder than you expected.   That you feel like a fool when your father tells you he doesn’t think you and your husband ever loved each other the way people should when they walk down the aisle.  That you’ve had to question everything.  That you’ve not gotten more than a handful of hours of sleep over the last week. That you feel like a failure.

That I didn’t love you enough then to realize that he didn’t love you enough.

I’m sorry.

13 thoughts on “sorry

  1. Kate, you have my very best wishes. I’ve been there, and it’s so very hard. I remember very clearly just wanting to apologize to everyone involved, just as you’re doing here. You’ll make it through.


  2. Don’t take all this on your own shoulders. Don’t blame yourself for everything that has gone astray.
    There are always plenty of things that could have been done differently. Plenty of blame.
    The thing is laying blame doesn’t accomplish anything positive. It repairs no wounds, heals no hurts and sooths no pains.
    As for divorce being equal to failure? Please, that old dog won’t hunt. Besides, there is no failure if we keep moving forward and doing better each day.
    I know exactly how hard this is for you. I’m doing the same thing this week myself. Breaking up is the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to do. It can’t be any easier for you. The good news is, the hurt will subside and your new and better life are just over the horizon.


  3. Remember there are always 3 sides to every story: your side, his side, and the truth. You are not entirely to blame. Therefore, you should not carry all of the guilt. This post feels like you are doing that.
    Even so, there is an element of strength that I still sense in you. I truly believe you are going to carry on, even through your darkest days.
    Know that even through our best laid plans to get together have always fallen through, I do still want to meet you…and perhaps this might be a great time for a diversion? Do be in touch.


  4. I can only echo the others. Your pain comes through loud and clear, my dear. I am not a touchy-feely kind of person, but I am sending genuine feelings of care and concern your way. Personally, if you were one of my friends I would take you out and get you really drunk. Temporary distraction, yes, but I would make you laugh until you couldn’t anymore…then we would eat breakfast at 3 AM and make fun of people some more. It’s just my way I guess, but hopefully you are surrounded with friends who will support you and care for you the way you need to be.


  5. Oh honey. I feel you on this one, and i’m now 10+ years out of my divorce.
    Yet, here is my offering to let you know you are not alone in the ‘I’m sorries’
    To my ex: I am sorry that i was never grown up enough to ask for what I needed. I am sorry that i sat on all of my feelings for 14 years before I finally blew. I realize that had I spoken up sooner…maybe before we even got married…things might have been different.
    Yet…I know they wouldn’t have. You were 10 years older than me and when it is 18 and 28…or 16 and 26 (when we first met)…the dynamics are set.
    I’m sorry that I was able to choke down all the things i felt all those years, only to spew them on you all at once. A lot of that wasn’t even your fault.
    While you were the reason i did a lot of what I did and felt the way i did, I own the fact that if i could have saddled up, things might have been different.
    and our kids wouldn’t have had to be ‘divorce kids,’ who have relationship issues and commitment issues.
    I’m sorry that because I was so able to compartmentalize my life that my kids were blindsided by the whole divorce thing.
    While we thought we were living our picture perfect little Baptist life, our life was a sham, and the kids got blindsided when I finally blew that day after church.
    Girls, I am sorry that due to my ability to put all of my feelings in little boxes for so long that you were under the impression that things were perfect in your life. I can only hope that you can get past our mistakes and make your own lives and have happy ones.
    and kate, know this…I wasn’t able to make my decision until after my mom passed away because I knew my decision would have undone her.
    kate, just know that this is all going to be okay. maybe a different okay, but okay nonetheless. Your parents love you and your real friends love you and the friends that loved you as a couple, will still love you.
    it sucks and it is hard. but it does get better.
    i promise


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