Twenty years of building a common world. < img src = "https://zycie.news/crrops/3a0946/620x0/1/0/2025/03/19/ovxeikkyqp5o8lvex0mc2lci9qbq9iba2j2ditj.jpg" alt = "old lady @pexels" styles = "background-color: rgba (92,81,71.0.98)" > < p > twenty years of marriage.

< p > twenty years co -porne < p > twenty years of building a co -& oacute world.

< p > and one sentence, which & oacute; rearmed everything in a second.

< p > — I go away.

< p > He sat opposite me, with the same calm expression with which for years M & oacute; was that the wr & oacute; ci p & oacute; from work, that he bought a new mower, that I had to remember to visit the dentist. ~ 60 > 62 ~ < p > The same tone announced that we are gone.

< p > — I met someone.

< p > my heart stopped for a moment.

< p > I didn't ask who.

< p > I haven't asked since.

< p > I didn't ask why.

< p > I knew that the answers would not change anything.

< p > — And what now ? — I finally managed to whisper.

< P >He shrugged as if it was the simplest decision in his life.

< p > — I want to start all over again.

< p > again ?

< p > And what was the last twenty years ?

< p > experiment ?

< p > an idea for life that did not work ?

< p > What was I for him ?

< p > stop ?

< p > younger.

< p > I didn't have to ask.

< p > I knew.

< p > probably prettier, with a smooth sk & oacute; hand and fresh look.

< p > without wrinkles after sleepless nights, without a trace < p > without history, which I shared with him.

< p > — Fortunately, I deserve — He added as if he was a victim here.

< p > I also deserved.

< p > but I had no choice.

< p > because my happiness has just been taken away from me.

< p > I don't remember what I said later.

< p > I don't remember how long I was sitting there.

< p > but I remember this feeling.

< p > this void.

< p > this awareness that someone just deleted me from their own life.

< p > The next day he began packing things.

< p > shirts, books, documents.

< p > did not look in my eyes.

< p > He didn't ask how I feel.

< p > because he did not want to know the answer.

< p > When the door closed behind him, I understood something terrible.

< p > for him it was the beginning.

< p > and for me ?

< p > for me it was the end.

< p > but I didn't want to end.

< p > so I had to do something that I have never done before.

< p > I had to learn to live without him.

< p > and although I didn't know how to do it & hellip;

< p > I knew that I had to say & oacute;

Natasha Kumar

By Natasha Kumar

Natasha Kumar has been a reporter on the news desk since 2018. Before that she wrote about young adolescence and family dynamics for Styles and was the legal affairs correspondent for the Metro desk. Before joining The Times Hub, Natasha Kumar worked as a staff writer at the Village Voice and a freelancer for Newsday, The Wall Street Journal, GQ and Mirabella. To get in touch, contact me through my natasha@thetimeshub.in 1-800-268-7116