Renee Good was killed by ICE on a Wednesday.
That Thursday, a tectonic plate shifted and my life erupted.
Eight days later, a nice, steady man said the safest option was divorce.
And then, my head stopped spinning. I had a plan.
Maybe 14 years ago, I could have seen this coming if I’d looked harder.
Maybe there’s no hindsight here.
You were supposed to protect me. You never did when it really mattered. I had to find my own way out of the darkness of PPD. I had to manage your feelings when my mom died.
You knew that living outside of our means — aside from hurting our kids — was the easiest to destroy my faith in you.
And you repeatedly betrayed my trust and lied to me for years.
And all that time, you expected everything from me.
Now it’s all on me. You’re not a partner, you’re a child. You’re not a spouse, you’re a dependent.
Being married to you is at my own detriment.
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