The culmination of all this– the divorce itself and the upcoming equitable distribution mediation– is turning out to be the most difficult time for me.

The finality of him wanting out, discarding us, not caring how we are, and allowing our family to disintegrate is right before me now. It’s the eleventh hour. “What’s on ESPN?” he may wonder.

Meanwhile, I’m very nervous about the mediation. There are so many tricks and traps to keep track of that I’m afraid I’ll screw up and make a bad decision. Why can’t the law be logical?

The hurt is like bass; the anxiety is like treble. The hurt is deep and soulful; the anxiety is high-pitched and piercing. The speakers are perfectly adjusted.

I’m experiencing a balance of both tracks as my marriage plays itself out.

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