Life goes on… I keep telling myself.

THE DAYS GO ON very much like they used to. John is sleeping in the guest room again, but I still make him his coffee and oatmeal in the morning. He makes us smoothies, a simple one for me. His is full of whey powder and all kinds of stuff which tastes horrible. We exchange a few words over lunch, and discuss the kids’ activities and schedules. I tell him we’re having roast chicken for dinner tonight.

And all the while, I know that he’s communicating with her, that he’s making plans with her, quietly hatching out his escape plan. He’s packing boxes, shopping for apartments, and probably furniture too.

And all the while, I can’t stop thinking about Eli. I know we’ve said goodbye, and I know I can’t exactly fly off to Copenhagen and live happily after. But I can’t help it… he’s in my pores.

I set down my paint brush, and sip my coffee. I know I’ve been stalling. I know I need to do this, and now is the time.

I wash my brushes and wipe my hands. I pick up the phone with a heavy heart. My hands tremble.

“Hello,” a kind voice answers. “Sarah Madison speaking.”

“Yes, Sarah,” I start, unsure. “My name is Gabriella Moore, and your sister, Kayla, gave me your number.” I’m so nervous, I feel sick.

“Yes, Gabriella,” she says. “I’ve been expecting your call.”

Sarah Madison has the kind of voice that makes you feel instantly at ease, just like her sister. The conversation is not too long, yet she manages to calm me, and make me believe that everything will turn out just fine. We agree to meet at her office the following Monday. The process has officially begun. I can’t turn back now.

This is really happening.

I’m drinking coffee and eating a banana when I cave. It’s all the banana’s fault. I eat bananas every morning, and when I start to peel this one, I notice that it has two dark spots which kind of look like eyes. It reminds me of Eli’s silly banana doodles, and my heart aches as I remember all the laughs, and all the sweet moments we’ve shared.

This isn’t even about the sex, which I think about plenty, usually when I’m in bed at night. I replay and replay every beautiful moment we’ve shared as I slide my hands over my body, imagining that they’re his.

It happens so fast, I don’t even have time to stop myself. I pick up my phone, tap on my Gmail app, on the little pencil icon, and tap in the first two letters of his name in the To: line. It’s that easy. I know I’d told myself that it was over between us, but I just need him to know.

I tap feverishly because I know if I stop and think about it, even for a second, I won’t send this message. And I really want to send this message. I desperately want to reach out to him.

Dear Eli,

I know I’ve said we should never communicate again. I was trying to protect the both of us, me especially, and my marriage.

I want you to know that you mean the world to me, and the week we shared was the most amazing week of my life. I’ll never ever forget you, and all those special moments.

You were not an escape, you were not an adventure, not a midlife crisis, not a payback plan. You were just someone I fell in love with. Someone I’m still in love with. Someone I’ll probably always love. You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out.

I’m not sure if you’ll ever get to read this message. I’ve asked you to remove me from your life, and knowing you, you have done exactly as I’ve asked because you care about me, about my marriage.

I also wanted to let you know that I’ve left John — our marriage is over. I thought that you might know this if you ever stalk my social media accounts. I didn’t want you to think it was your fault. It wasn’t. Our marriage was over long before I met you, Eli. You just helped me see that it was broken. With you, I’ve experienced love again, and now I can see that it doesn’t exist anymore between John and me. I was blind before I met you. I see so much more clearly now.

I wish you the best, Eli. You deserve everything and more. I hope that you find someone worthy of you, and have sweet children — I think you’d make a great dad! And I hope you keep creating beautiful art until your dying day.

I love you, Eli. Forever.

Gabriella

P.S. I promise to keep painting, always. And whenever I eat a banana, or see a scooter on the road, or a beautiful work of glass, I’ll think about you.

My finger shakes as I press on the Send arrow. I drop my phone back on the table. I’m breathless and my pulse is racing. I fear my heart might leap out of my ribcage.

I throw my face into my hands.

Why did I just do that?!

I know I’m just asking for heartbreak, hoping for the impossible, and begging for disappointment.

There are a lot of books about children and divorce, I quickly discover as I peruse the Amazon listing. There are two different guides about discussing divorce with your kids. I add them both to my cart. There’s also an activity book which looks fun, and a story book with a dinosaur — I add those too. There are two sweet picture books, one is entitled Two Homes, and the other, When my Parents Forgot How to be Friends. They make my heart hurt a little, but I buy them both.  

When I finally check out, I’m happy to discover that I qualify for free shipping. I suppose that’s what happens when you bulk buy. My life is a complete disaster, but Yay, I get free shipping!

I glance at my phone, for the thousandth time. I wish I were exaggerating, but I don’t think I am. It’s been six days and fourteen hours since I sent Eli the email, and still, I haven’t received a response.

I’ve been on edge all week, checking my phone every five minutes. I’ve literally gone crazy. I’ve wanted to cry but I haven’t. It’s what I asked for. I wanted closure. I asked him to block me on all accounts, and erase me from his life.

I’m sure I’m blocked on Gmail, and he never even received my message. That’s what I tell myself anyway.

As if sending an ill-advised message and painstakingly awaiting a reply weren’t bad enough, I torture myself further and creep his Instagram. I want to know if he’s still alive. Maybe he’s had a horrible scooter accident, or perhaps he’s suffered an injury at work, and that’s why he hasn’t replied.

I am crazy.

I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t look at his Instagram or Facebook, or even his website. But promises were made to be broken.

My heart pounds as I tap the first letters of his name in the search box. It doesn’t take long to realize that he’s not there. I can’t find him. My stomach drops when I realize that he’s nowhere to be seen. My heart breaks when I realize that he’s blocked me.

It’s really over.

How can it be over? After all we’ve shared?

I’d been holding up well, but this is when I officially break down and fall into sobs. Elsie wakes from her slumber, and eyes me with concern. She walks tentatively toward me, and licks my face.

“I’m a complete idiot,” I tell her.

Did I just make the biggest mistake of my life?

It hits me then. My family is broken, I’m getting a divorce. I am alone and completely heart broken. Did I ever mean anything to Eli? Did I imagine it all? Was I just a foolish horny woman?

“It’s all those stupid Disney movies,” I tell Elsie. “Cinderella, Snow White… what a bunch of crock. And Little fucking Mermaid is the worst one of them all,” I scoff. “Seriously?! A mermaid who falls for a human prince?! And she gives up her voice to be human and be with him! What an idiot!”

I’m crying again. But this time, it’s in public. The people next to us avert their eyes politely. Maeve rubs my shoulder, and Corrie hands me a cup of tea. “I’ve made it just like you like it,” she says. “A splash of milk and two sugars.”

“Thank you.”

I’m surrounded by my friends — at least there’s that. I’ve just told Maeve and Corrie about the divorce. They’re both still slack jawed.

“What happened?” Corrie asks. “Is this about that hot guy in Copenhagen?”

I’m devastated, but I can’t help but smile a little — she’s so nosy.

“Not really,” I tell her. I take a sip of my tea but it’s still too hot. “It’s about us growing apart, falling out of love. It’s about his affair, it’s about mine…”

“Well, technically, you didn’t have an affair,” Corrie points out. “He gave you permission.”

“True,” I say. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m in love with Eli, and I don’t know if I’ll ever shake it.”

Maeve is wide eyed. “Can you and Eli be together?” she asks. She’s such a hopeless romantic. “Does he feel the same way about you?”

I shake my head. “I really don’t know how he feels,” I admit. I remember his words when we made love. He’d told me he loved me, but were those just words? “And besides, it would never work… he lives in Copenhagen.”

“You should call him,” Corrie suggests. “Talk things over. You never know.”

“I did,” I confess. “I was stupid, and I sent him a message. I told him all about my divorce and how I was madly in love with him, and it was such a stupid move.”

“Why?!” Corrie asks. “What happened?”

“He never replied,” I tell her. “It’s been almost two weeks.”

Her face falls. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” she says softly. “The guy sounds like a dick.”

“Well, maybe he didn’t get the message,” Maeve chimes in. “Maybe she should send him another one.”

“C’mon, Maeve,” Corrie scoffs. “She’s not doing that. Should she fly over there too, and get on all fours at his door, and beg?!”

“Anyway, who cares,” I say, trying to put on a brave face. “I’m moving on. I’m going to take some new art classes, and maybe volunteer at one of the galleries, and spend more time with the kids… when I have them.”

“How are the kids?” Kayla asks. “Are they okay?”

I smile at her. “They’re fine right now. We haven’t officially told them. By the way, this is still under wraps,” I tell them. “No one knows but you guys, so don’t tell anyone.”

They all nod in unison.

“I’ve bought some books about divorce, and we’ll read those together. John and I are on the same page, and we’ll do this right. We’ll both show them more love than they’ve ever had.”

Maeve is crying now, and Kayla is on the verge.

“I’m okay, I swear,” I assure them. “We’ll all be fine.”

Maeve reaches in for a hug.

Corrie pipes up. “Hey, you and I can paint the town red,” she says. “And I can show you all the best dating sites.”

“I’ve heard your stories, Corrie,” I tell her. “I’m definitely not ready for dating. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”

“Sure, you say that now, but just wait until you get really horny, and you’ve had enough of your vibrator.”

“Coooorrie,” Maeve scolds in hushed tones.

I shift my gaze to the people next to us, and they turn their heads swiftly. They’ve been spying but I really couldn’t care less.

“I just hurt so much right now,” I say. “He never got back to me, and I know it’s over. We’ll never speak again, never see each other again. And I wonder if I made it all up in my head. Maybe I never meant as much to him as he did to me.”

“You did,” Maeve says. “I know you did.”

Corrie shifts in her seat. “Men can be such assholes.”

“You’ll get past this,” Kayla tells me. “You’re beautiful, smart, and strong.”

I finally take a sip of my tea, and quietly thank the Lord for my friends.