Last Friday, my world shattered in a way I never saw coming. It started as an ordinary day—actually, better than ordinary. Work was amazing, one of the best days I’d had in a long time. I came home to my partner cooking dinner, and we had plans to watch a movie together. Everything felt… normal. Stable. Hopeful.
And then it all unraveled.
He told me he needed to run out to the car for a moment and promised he’d be right back. But he didn’t come back. He left. He blocked me. He was gone.
I later found out his mother had called him to ensure he’d follow through with their “plan.” A plan to abandon us. His family. The people he was supposed to care for and build a life with.
The cruelest part of it all? I thought things were improving. We’d been attending couples counseling. I’d committed to an intensive outpatient program (IOP) to work on myself. We’d been fighting less. I really believed we were starting to grow as a family.
But now, I can’t stop crying. I can’t stop replaying it in my head. The betrayal. The abandonment. The sudden, jarring emptiness.
And the fallout has only begun. I’ll be moving in with my mom soon, but I can’t take my cats with me. My partner—if I can even call him that anymore—has agreed to take just one of them. But my other cat, my elderly companion of nearly 16 years, needs a home. The thought of giving her up breaks me in ways I can’t even describe.
I feel like I’ve lost everything. My family, my stability, my future. Even my beloved pets are slipping through my fingers. It’s like every piece of my life is being stripped away, and I’m left standing in the wreckage, unsure of what to do next.
I don’t feel strong. I don’t feel like I can keep going. Right now, the pain is suffocating, and I don’t know how to rise above it. But I’m writing this because I have to believe that I’m not alone. Maybe someone out there has been through something similar. Maybe they’ve felt this broken and found a way to heal.
For now, I’ll take it one day—one breath—at a time. It’s all I can do.
To anyone reading this: if you’re in a dark place, know that I see you. I feel your pain. And even if we don’t feel strong, maybe we can find a way to rebuild. Together.
The Fourth Trimester 