firstwivesworld - Living Together, But Separate - Comments

It's Definitely Hell

Guest — Sun, 30 Dec 2007 16:39:20 -0500

I live in Germany and here, you can't divorce until you've waited out a year of separation. Never mind that my husband has lived in Austria for the past two and a half years since we moved to Berlin to "reunite" _ he never came _ under German law, do to some rather odd pieces of paper, that doesn't count. So I am hiding out in the Master Bedroom while he watches a movie in the living room. I bought myself a new bed and kicked our old one, which he claimed was his, into the computer room. What makes all of this even more hellish _ he's denying the separation and refuses to acknowledge that I want out! God, although he's only here every second weekend for a couple of days, I want this limbo to END! I am SO OVER IT!! _ ME

Living Together but Separate

peg7r — Mon, 08 Oct 2007 11:50:15 -0400

It seems like I am reading a short story about me. We lived in separate bedrooms for 4 months for the reasons you mentioned. He has been out since February and I am definitely doing much better on my own. It was all very awkward.

Living Together, But Separate

A.J. Wylder — Fri, 05 Oct 2007 17:30:00 -0400

I can't remember how it came up, but I was talking with someone a few days ago about the months that John and I lived together as a mentally divorced couple. I'm so glad that's over!

After John and I decided to divorce, we agreed it would be financially impossible for him to move into his own apartment and still pay his half of the bills our home. We agreed that he would stay and use the guest bedroom and the guest bathroom. That worked for a few months.

He wasn't at the house every night — he would often stay at a friend's place. But the nights when he was home were not easy. At the time, our divorce wasn't finalized, so we were still officially married but mentally divorced.

I remember how odd and painful it felt being at home with him. It felt like we should be doing our usual routine — having dinner together, opening a bottle of wine and sitting by the fire—- but my mind knew better. I couldn't ask him if he wanted to come sit by the fire, or go into his office, give him a kiss and ask him how his work was going. Those days were long gone.

In the morning, when we were showering and getting ready for the day, he was in his bathroom and I was in mine. He would "announce" when he had to enter the master bedroom — which had become my bedroom — to get his clothes out of the closet, so that I could make sure I was "decent." As you can imagine, that arrangement didn't work for long.

After a few months, I told him he had to move out and just find a friend to live with. He agreed and moved out. I'm so glad those days are over.