Fireworks and Farewells: Ending a Marriage Abroad

 

Despite the looting, protests, strikes, and civil unrest, the Christmas spirit was alive and well in Córdoba City, Argentina. Under our roof, though, it was a different story. But I’ll get to that in a moment.

For a country facing an economic crisis, Cordobeses were surprisingly generous with their spending. The uplifting part is that, despite the challenges, most people in the province seemed genuinely happy. I wish I could say I was among them, but I wasn't.

Last year was tough for me. It was my first Christmas in Argentina, and my husband, Zach, was in New York with his family. This year, I was fortunate to spend the holidays with him, but it was bittersweet for a heartbreaking reason.

After twelve years together—of which we’ve been legally married for a year and nine months—we’ve mutually decided to end our marriage. If you’d asked me whether I saw this coming, my answer would have been no.

We’ve been through so much together. It just doesn’t seem right that our relationship has to end. Still, something has felt off lately. I started noticing it over the past few weeks. While I’ve been excited about starting school next year, my husband has felt like an emotional blank slate. It’s almost as though the happier I’ve become, making new friends and managing my social anxiety through medication and therapy, the further away he’s drifted.

I can only assume that the stress of living abroad, combined with the financial and emotional challenges we’ve faced, led him to want to end things. That’s right. It wasn’t initially my idea. The conversation started with me trying to snap him out of what I thought was a growing depression. It ended with him telling me he didn’t love me anymore because he couldn’t feel anything at all.

I’ll admit, I'm very angry. I left my friends and my life in the States behind for him, so he could have access to the free healthcare he needed if the Big C that took his father and grandparents in 2008, ever came for him too. I moved to Argentina to give him a better quality of life, including a home of our own. This was something we never had in New York. What we did have were toxic family dynamics on his side. He hated them and wanted to get as far away as possible. So I helped him do that.

The moment he said he didn’t love me, I went into my room and started tearing up every love note he had ever written me. For some reason, it felt therapeutic. It was as if everything in those notes had been a lie, and destroying them meant they could no longer make me feel a love that was clearly one-sided.

Despite my initial anger, we decided to remain friends. For now, we’ll continue living under the same roof, supporting each other as we try to adjust to life in this fucking country.

On December 24th, we enjoyed a quiet Christmas Eve dinner with our expat friend Brian. We kept things low-key this year, unlike our big Thanksgiving celebration partly due to budget constraints and partly because of our recent breakup. But we still had a wonderful time.

After dinner, we relaxed in the living room and watched a couple of movies. Being huge sci-fi fans, we chose Terminator Salvation and Pandorum on my Blu-ray player.

Later, we went outside to watch the fireworks. In Argentina, people light fireworks at midnight as if it were New Year’s Eve. I captured some video footage, which I’ve added below the photo of the fireworks.

With most of our friends either visiting family in the States or scattered across nearby provinces, I expect New Year’s Eve to be pretty quiet. Honestly, I can’t wait to say goodbye to this heartbreaking 2013 and welcome 2014.

Maybe the new year will bring something different into my life. Happiness, new friendships, or even a new love. All are welcome, as far as I’m concerned. I just want a reason to live, which feels like something I’ve been lacking lately.

I hope all my friends, both in the States and Argentina, and of course my readers from around the world, had a fantastic Christmas.