Am I Really Single?

This is day 1.  The day that he moved out.  The day I kicked him out.  The day that, after months and months of begging and pleading, he actually listened, packed a suitcase and left.  It is liberating, scary, frustrating, exciting and what I wanted.

Isn't it?

As I walk around the house I see my three kids playing nicely having recovered from the dramatic exit he chose to have for all to see.

I'd hugged them, let them cry and held them best I could as he threw things into a suitcase, oblivious to his audience, in typical bully style.  He'd told them "I will never be back!" and "Mommy is making me leave, be mad at her!"

I held my tongue, confident I could reinstill trust and faith in my young children, hopefully reversing his words, actions and insensitive behavior.  Behaviors I so badly wanted to get away from after 9 years of living with them day after day.

It all started to go wrong before the wedding.  Before I donned the white dress that I was thrilled to find on clearance.  Before the stick turned blue 5 days before the wedding.  Before the children arrived, one a year, three years in a row.  Before I quite my lucrative career to raise them.  Before we blew through my savings and through his earnings trying to make our material possessions give us what the marriage was not.

Before I let the screaming voices in my head seep through the hope and romantic notions that I struggled to hang onto year after year.  I held onto them alone... thus lived alone, despite his arrival home every night.

So here I stand, children settled and coloring, faces having recovered from the red, blotchy mess that decorated their young cheeks just minutes before, wondering what to do next.

Struggling to believe that 3 months before my 40th birthday I am actually struggling to answer the question... Am I Really Single?