It started with some news about my drains: the insurance company is going to pay, and the work is scheduled to take place before the end of the month. An unexpected aspect of that is they need to remove the shed to bring in a digger.

My husband had customised the shed to make it a feature in the garden, rather than just a box. He gave it the appearance of a beach hut with a little porch.

We both loved it.

I messaged him with the news. He sounded a bit upset since he had worked hard on it. But he offered to come and help me empty it.

I immediately told him that was very much appreciated.

I also shared that I felt crying when I came off the call. It is a bit overwhelming that the garden is going to be wrecked – and I already feel overwhelmed by the work required to sort the house out

I told him again how much work he’d put into it.

He mentioned the electrics, to which I replied that the contractors should sort that out.

He said that he felt incredibly sad – and that he felt like he’d already been eradicated from the house.

I shared his grief – and I said that something similar would definitely be going back there because I loved what he’d done.

I guess we were kind of bonding over the sadness of the end of the shed. It forms part of the grief of our separation, so it’s more than just an outbuilding.

Basically, my shields were down and I was already feeling upset about the mess, work, and destruction of the garden.

The next message read something like:

I think it’s best if I step back and let you handle this yourself. I offered help because I still care about you, but I’m feeling as though you don’t really need me anymore.

And love, of course.

And just that like, my problems were eclipsed by his emotional response, and I was pulled back into the old role of managing his feelings.

I didn’t reply until much later in the day, which was basically to say that my cold was persistent and that I was going to bed and wish him good night.

It’s an old, old pattern. I feel as though there had rarely been space for me to have feelings in my relationship. At one point it led me to exclaim “why do you have to have feelings about everything?!” Which has come back so many times to haunt me.

And it threw me back from the connection I’d felt with him on my birthday, into that place where I felt glad that we are over.

No. Not glad, that isn’t right.

I am not glad. It doesn’t make me happy – it makes me very sad.

But it makes the acceptance that it’s the best thing easier.