I was doing very well in life before marriage. I had a great job and two cars that worked for me. I didn’t buy a car for personal use because the company I was working for gave me a car and even paid my rent.

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My wife was then my girlfriend, so she witnessed how flowery my life was. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her and nothing I couldn’t give. I gave to her siblings and even to her parents.

We got married after dating for three years, and right after marriage, life turned on its head—I mean, my life. I changed jobs. The new one was better than the old one, but it was the new job that brought me to my knees. Just a few months after being employed, I got laid off.

They called it restructuring after a takeover. By then, I had invested all my money into a house I was building. I knew life was going to be hard, but I also knew I could find a new job very soon. The jobs that came my way didn’t pay well. I said no to them all until they stopped coming.

I sold one of my cars to help me stay afloat for a while. My wife was also supporting me, but a few months after selling the first car, I had to sell the second one too. I got desperate and settled for a job that paid me sixty percent less than what I earned in my previous job.

I’ve been doing this job for the past four years. My life has seen no growth. The only growth is the two children we’ve had along the way. Financially, it has been very tough for us. My wife feels the weight more because we’ve gotten to a point where she has to carry the bulk of the financial responsibilities.

She tells me she regrets marrying me. Anytime we have a fight, she says, “You’re the curse that ruined my life. I don’t know why I married you.” Sometimes she phrases it differently: “My life would have been better if I married someone else.”

It’s only recently that I found out there was another man in the picture while we were dating, a man who equally wanted to marry her, a man who’s currently flourishing in life. So she compares my life to his and feels like she got the short end of the stick.

Recently, during one of her outbursts, I asked her, “Do you want a divorce?” She responded, “Stop talking and fix your life. That’s the most important thing.”

That’s all the motivation I have now: to fix my life and stop talking. She can rant all day, and I don’t mind. She can call me a failure and question the depth of my manhood. I don’t talk back. I’m not the kind to ask for help, but now I’ve started. I’m speaking to friends. They are shocked at how life has turned out for me. They are willing to help, and I’ve already seen signs. It will get better.

And there’s another thing I’m looking for diligently. The will and the heart to go through a divorce and, most importantly, the resources to get me through to the finish line. I know she has checked out of the marriage, leaving only me at the table. And she thinks I can’t leave until she returns because, in her mind, I can’t take care of myself if I leave. She’s wrong. Only time will tell.

I Was Fine Until I Was Alone In My Room

I will give her the freedom she needs to marry someone else so her life can be as bright as she always envisioned. This situation I find myself in, a man who once had it all, I wouldn’t wish it even on my enemy. But joy is coming, probably in the morning.

—Keith

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