One day my father told my mother he didn't love her any more and was going to leave. This was not a surprise to me. It was, oddly enough, a gigantic surprise to my mother. I was all grown up when this happened, and I felt like the world's biggest asshole for not being surprised. And honestly, now that I've been married for a while, I find that I'm kind of shocked that my mother was shocked that my father was leaving.
I'm WAY shocked, actually. But then, when I think about it a little more, I'm just sad for her, for them, for all of the people who get shocked that their spouse is leaving. To slowly, slowly be turned away from the direction you were traveling, so slowly and insidiously that you are unable to recognize the landmarks as you pass by.
Slammed doors. Fighting. Threats. Silence. Lots and lots of silence.
And one day you wake up, horrified to discover that your honeymoon destination is a barren tundra. How did you get there? How did you get there together?
My father took her there. He betrayed. He did this, he did that, all of these things are true. But he didn't do this to her. He didn't put her in "that situation".
They went together, and as they went they came apart. They.