The travel never happened as promised. Instead, we used our sparse vacation days and bonuses to travel for ten days to China, two weeks to Europe, sixteen days to Thailand. But these trips were more a retreat from home life in a grand setting—not enough for me. I wanted deeper, more. After seven years, I had spoken the truth at last and breathed for the first time.
For three months we separated, each day removing a layer of our life together—the mattress we’d just purchased, the Noritake Colorwave Green china, and the joint DVD collection. Over time, he agreed that our separation was for the best. He dreamed of a house, a family, and a silver anniversary party. I dreamed of a camel ride to visit the Great Pyramids of Giza. When he eventually admitted that it was better to be fulfilled than be together, the cement block of guilt weighing down my newfound freedom began to ligh.
By Kristin Zibell (to be continued)
