Being a middle-aged man in an apartment alone, overcoming the financial woes that come along with a fresh divorce, isn’t particularly pleasurable.
Life wasn’t great before, but on the outside, it sure looked better. We had the big place, money in the bank, outings, hobbies, and vacations. 
Today, we both have struggles. Except hers look like social media posts claiming she’s finally free and alive. Mine look like, “What am I supposed to do now?”

Boring was my goal. Being at home with my kid plopped on my lap was the point. Not split custody. Not freedom to go out and try to occupy my time because there’s no one to do it with at home.
I wanted to be a good husband and a good father. Maybe even great. Only, I let her tell me what that was supposed to look like. And, apparently, I never quite understood what she was telling me.

There’s an acceptance of duality in me now. One side can admit that I didn’t step up. That I waited for instructions. That I deferred. That I could have taken charge, but I didn't. 

The other side accepts that I thought giving her the control she requested was part of being a good, secure man. Maybe she was right that I’d just screw it up, so I’ll let her do it the way she wants. Until she got tired of doing it.

And she probably didn’t mean to kill my confidence by questioning my decisions, regularly giving unsolicited advice, or rolling her eyes and huffing and puffing. But it did.

And I didn't mean to leave her feeling afraid, unprotected, and emotionally unsafe. Hoping I would swoop in and sweep her off her feet, telling her, “I’ll handle it,” instead of spectating until I was summoned. But I did.

I lost the confidence to do that. And she lost the confidence to let me.

And, I sit here, after two years of being alone, thinking that now I know what needed to be done. I know because I’ve been doing it. And I think about how much easier our lives would be right now if we had each other to lean on. Two incomes. No split custody. Two active participants.

And how I can stand up to her today, something she probably wished I did back then.

But it’s too late.

And we’re both out there drifting.

Until one day, we’re found again.