What do you say when there are no words left?

For some reason this week has seemed very empty. There's a void that I wasn't expecting. Besides sitting across the courtroom from him, I haven't seen the ex since that sad, dreary November day when I got into a rental car and headed east. The only contact we've had are the occasional texts about the business of ending our not-so-blessed union. None of our conversations have been pleasant. They usually ended the same way every conversation for the last 4 years ended....with him screaming, me crying and wondering why I even bother.


I knew this day was coming and thought I had prepared for it. Even though we signed the papers months ago, I knew this would be the real end because there's no need for any further conversations. It's all been said. He doesn't live in my house. I don't have his name. Except for the trail of paper and tears, no one would ever know we even knew each other. And somehow, as much as I never want to see him again, my life seems empty this week because I know I'll never talk to him again.


How many times was I glad to get the random, angry text from him because it meant he was at least thinking about me? How many times did I have a legitimate question that I needed to ask him, but wouldn't, because I didn't want him to know I was thinking of him? How many times did I look at the phone waiting for it to ring? Waiting for it to be the call when he said he had made a mistake and couldn't live without me......


And yet....


I knew that if the call came, it wouldn't change anything. Too many lies, too many broken promises had shredded the fabric of my affection. We had nothing left to build on. I had not properly guarded the nest and now it lay in ruins, nevermore to be repaired. But what could I have guarded it against? There was no outside attack. No, that damage had been done from the inside. Every time I tried to shore up a wall, he was there with a sledgehammer to destroy the work I'd done. I don't understand why....we should have been building together. Could it be that he is afraid to be happy? Afraid to admit he doesn't deserve it, but accept it regardless?
And so, I have resigned myself to the silence that fills the days to come. No more calls. No more texts. No more contact at all. Just emptiness and quiet, but not the peaceful sort that comforts the soul. No, this is the haunting emptiness of a void that can't be filled with friends or family or working too long into the night. This is the quiet that echoes through the mind's hallways as I revisit the dreams that will never be.


For the first time, in a long time, I have nothing left to say.