We couldn’t save it

As the world is far too small … I now live two blocks from where I went to marriage counselling.

When I was going to marriage counselling we lived a few suburbs away. I would furtively dash in, hoping no one would recognise me and guess where I was going.

My crumbling marriage felt like a shameful secret.

These days, I walk past the marriage counsellor’s office – whose name, unforgettably, was Neville – several times each week.

It’s just across the road from the supermarket, next to the chemist and around the corner from the bahn mi shop, so it’s in a high traffic location.

While the pain of my divorce is a distant memory, I am reminded every time I walk past Neville’s office that it was where we failed to save our marriage.

I walked past yesterday and the memory swooped on me like a magpie, as it always does.

It is more than 11 years since I last walked through Neville’s door, but that sense of failure still stabs my heart a little. Failure is not something that sits well with me.

That said, my ex and I have been very successful at being amicably divorced. We chatted on the phone earlier this week about the financial ruin our children are wreaking on us by living away from home while attending university.

We discussed how we can work together shoulder the increasing burden.

I think one of the keys to our collaborative spirit is that we know no one adores our kids as much as we do. They will always be our shared passion and we find joy and comfort in discussing their triumphs and trevails with each other.

Song of the day: Joy Division “Love will tear us apart”