Fragile Decor

I brought some boxes from the storage facility last week, and among them was the first box Scott dropped on that fateful Saturday.

As I walked past it, I thought, "This is the box that cost Scott his marriage."

I feel like this was the first time I attributed the end of the marriage to Scott's terrible behavior. He so cavalierly dropped that box, labeled "Fragile Decor." I told him not to load up the car in the state he was in, then dismissed my concern with that contemptuous "Who Cares?!" when I told him there were fragile things in the box he'd just dumped on the cement walkway.

That was the day I finally had enough.

My therapist Jenny thinks I dissociated that day, my psyche protecting me by allowing me to be so lucid. I remember the whole thing frame by frame, then calling first my sister and then Quincy to try to process the experience.

I wonder what, if anything, Scott remembers of that day. The day he destroyed his marriage. He told me later that evening that he'd gone to a very cool restaurant and had a single drink and some food. He also told me that day that he hadn't eaten anything, so I don't know what the truth is. He told me once years ago that he avoided answering any questions regarding his whereabouts from his then-girlfriend by pretending to be very drunk. He was certainly not pretending that day, but I can also see him acting angry so I wouldn't pry too much into where he'd been or how he'd gotten so drunk. Was he alone? With someone?

I could go around and around and around, but I'll probably never know.

He keeps talking about "my decisions" and "my actions" and "my behaviors." He's cold to me, dismissive. I can feel the barely suppressed rage at times.

But all I did was witness him throw a drunken temper tantrum and realize there was no way to repair our marriage. Counseling didn't work, advocating for myself didn't work. Righting the power imbalance by getting a job and finding some success didn't work. He didn't just throw a box. He threw away a 23 years long marriage.

In all of this it's helpful to have that tangible reminder that I'm not being selfish in choosing myself. My love should have been treated like a precious thing to protect and respect.

It should have been treated like fragile decor.

But we all know how that ended.