As I walked from the secure area of the airport, there was a man holding a sign with my name on it like a limo driver might do.  It made no sense to me.  I was arriving home and expecting my wife to pick me up.  Having texted her after I made my connecting flight to let her know I would be arriving on time she had responded “OK”.  

My body language gave me away as I neared the man with the sign.  He looked directly at me and asked me “are you him” while pointing to my name.   I was bewildered as to what might be going on and my first thought was that something bad had happened to my wife.  I answered “yes, I’m him”.  He handed a large manila envelope to me and simply said “I’m sorry” and walked away. 

Quickly putting my bags down and opening the large envelope I started to read the note on top of a stack of legal looking papers.  It said:

The Aviator (car) is at Airport Parking under James Browning.  They have your keys.  I’ve moved your meds, closet belongings, stuff from your drawers, etc to the warehouse – right inside the door.   

Good-bye.  I do love you but am not able to trust you again after knowing what you have done.  I just can’t get over it.  I will hopefully be able to forgive you someday, but I will never be able to forget.  Good luck with your recovery, A.

Lifting the note underneath I saw “Petition for the Dissolution of Marriage”.  

The relationship preceding the marriage was troubled and the first year of the marriage was difficult as well.  The time ranged from near euphoric good moments to long days and nights filled with great anguish and pain.  We truly loved each other but our dysfunctions made coexistence arduously challenging.

Although I was faithful for five years while we dated and lived together, during a period of extreme pain and frustration I lost my direction completely and began an affair that I later partially admitted in marriage counseling.  My wife found that behavior unforgivable and I don’t blame her for feeling that way.  Had our roles been switched I would likely have felt the same.  

Looking back there is no complete explanation within of why the sex focused affair began and  the growing darkness surrounded me except through counseling I came to know I was sexually compulsive.  I learned that under duress an alcoholic drinks, an addict takes drugs and one sexually compulsive medicates with sex.  To each one the substance of choice is used to numb pain and alter reality, even if just for a short while.  Sharing that here is not intended as an excuse.  There are none for my actions. Rather, by public admission I am shining light into a dark corner of my life.  It is my hope by sharing my missteps I can find further relief for pain I still carry inside for the agony caused to my now ex-wife.  

The date I was legally served at the airport was Saturday, May 27, 2006 and I honestly don’t remember much specifically about the day.  Everything was surreal and felt if I was drifting within a very bad dream.  My recollection is that I went home to find the locks changed and no response to my knocks on the door.  After numerous tries I sat on the porch step for a good long while and eventually left.  The only place I could think to go was my office at work.  Thankfully it was a Saturday and no one saw me arrive.  I locked myself in my office without turning on the lights.  The next six hours were spent staring at the walls and changing passwords on-line with a good deal of crying interspersed.  

Somewhere near sundown the realization hit I had no place to spend the night and checked into a budget motel near my work which became my refuge for the next two weeks.  I slept little that night and those following with rest only coming when exhaustion overtook me.  

Since that time five years ago I have been deeply involved in counseling and recovery including five weeks at a wonderfully healing place in Arizona called “The Meadows”.  My time there was life changing beyond my ability to explain it.  Just before leaving my primary counselor there said to me “you came here to change your life.  Everyone can see it”.  She was correct and I am proud that growth continues today. 

The longest I have ever lived alone has been the last five years.  In a local recovery group I am active and attend two Codependence Anonymous meetings per week ( www.coda-tulsa.org ).  Today I am well, growing and happy and have healed a lot from the trauma of my difficult childhood where my dysfunctions are rooted.  I see my therapist only rarely.  She tells me I don’t need to see her anymore but I continue to check in with her a couple of times per year.  There is much gratitude for the great help she has been to me. 

Thinking about the day I was served divorce papers at the airport still conjures a hurt that is yet not completely healed.  Sharing here is a way of  letting go of “secrets” that are “poison” to my soul.  I thank you for being my witness.  There is much gratitude for the healing that has come into my life in recent years.  While I can find no specific thankfulness for the day I came home to find I had no home anymore, there will always be vast gratitude for the healing it served as a catalyst for.  

We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.  Kenji Miyazawa