I threw out the divorce papers.
My position has all along been that there was no difficulty in our marriage that was not surmountable, and that if we worked together, we could have a great life together. The only thing missing from the equation was my wife’s will.
I accept that I have no wife. But I can not agree that her actions, her decision is right. She needs to take responsibility for seeing this through. I have heard the horror stories of men screwed over in divorce by vindictive wives, and I appreciate that it is in my own best interest to drive the divorce process. But even more than this, I will not be party to something that I disagree with. I feel this is the right action: the divorce is her cross to bear and hers alone.
Possibly . . . well, anything is possible. I won’t hold my breath expecting a miracle, but I am comforted by the fact that for immigration purposes, she must have begun the divorce proceedings before our second anniversary in October. The divorce process takes six months beyond that. Six months, add up to four . . . a small price to pay for the years together, for the compact that I made for her to be the most important person in my life, to be loved, for better or for worse.
And until the end . . . I will maintain my emotional independence. I will also engage her with all the positivity I have to muster. For me, it is an exercise, an “experiment in truth” to see what my positivity, love, compassion, and understanding can do to a person who is willing to destroy my heart out of their own short-term selfish desire. I will continue to believe, rightly or wrongly, that the woman I married is in fact a good person. What follows from that is anyone’s guess.