It's really happening...

Today I'm feeling anxious. Not the good kind. Tomorrow is the day I complete my move into my new place and more importantly, marks the first official day that I will be living there and not in "our" home. And right now it doesn't seem to be real. I have a ton to do in order to execute the move; finish packing, organize what will and will not be taken, sort everything in the garage, pick up the truck. And every bit of it seems unreal. As though all this is being done by someone else. Certainly not me. But it’s really happening isn’t it?

Part of me hopes my wife will stop me at the last minute to tell me what a mistake this is... that she will fight for our marriage after all. That she wants me to stay. And part of me hopes to God that she won't. And if she does, part of me wants to accept it, while another part of me wants to say, "too late." I'm not supposed to be so uncertain. I should be much more committed to this. In truth however I am not, and right now... it just sucks.

I still don't really understand how we went from loving each other to this. To planning and executing my exit. To dividing the furniture, dividing the money, bills, changing addresses, negotiating which towels or blankets I can take and which she simply wants to keep. To needing her help with some of this. To my asking that she not be around while I load up the truck. I've been through tough times in my life.... none compares.

And then there is the belief that greater things await. That owing completely to my departure I will finally move my life such that I'll find relaxation, comfort, hope, happiness, fulfillment.

Holy crap! This is really happening!