Why I Chose Not to Divorce — Love, Hope, and Endurance
I thought about divorce many times. Each day felt like trying to keep walking through a violent storm, until I was close to being worn down both physically and emotionally.
And yet, I could never let go of the belief that, given enough time, the practical aspects of life might fall into place and that we might one day live more peacefully. That was why I threw myself into work. At the time, it was the only way I knew how to survive.
Although I myself had grown up in a far-from-peaceful household, I had also been shaped and supported by people I met later in life. They had shown me that a difficult beginning does not dictate the rest of one’s life.
I wanted to be that kind of presence for my partner. I wanted us to embody, together, the idea that life is not determined solely by where one is born, and that it is possible to live again by one’s own choice.
As I continued living in a state of constant upheaval, I became convinced that my partner’s behaviour was deeply influenced by their parents and their faith. More than anything, I wanted my partner to become independent — to live as their own person.
At the same time, I could not bring myself to abandon the feelings I had for them. Perhaps this, too, was a form of love. When we married, I had sensed that we shared something unspoken at a very deep level. Looking back now, that shared bond may well have been our respective emotional wounds.
This may seem trivial, but my partner is an ardent fan of a particular band. Whenever they talked about that music, their face would light up with brightness and hope. Each time I saw that expression, I found myself thinking, This person will be all right.
On the very first day of my leave from work, as I sat at home in a daze, my partner sent me a message on LINE saying, “Listen to this,” along with a live performance video by that band. It was their way of trying to stay close to me.
Our relationship did not transform until it was almost broken — and the price of that transformation was my leaving work.
Now, I think that loving another person does not necessarily mean doing something extraordinary. Sometimes, it may simply mean stopping together, looking back, and accepting what is there.
The Divorce Papers at City Hall — A Moment I Could Not Forget
When it comes to divorce, there is one episode I will never forget.
One day, consumed by anguish, I went to the local city hall to collect divorce papers. Near the entrance stood a staff member whose role was to direct visitors to the appropriate counter.
When I said, “I’ve come to collect divorce papers,” they replied in a loud voice, “Divorce papers are available at counter number XX.”
I am sure there was no ill intent, but overwhelmed by embarrassment, I turned and fled the building as though escaping.
Once outside, a thought suddenly crossed my mind: Perhaps I could get them from the security office. Years earlier, on the day we registered our marriage, it had been a public holiday, and we had submitted our marriage registration through the security desk. I remembered that clearly.
When I asked at the security office, I was told, “You can get them at counter XX on floor △△.” But when I added, “I’d rather avoid being seen,” they kindly handed the papers to me there. They even guided me out through a staff-only exit rather than the main entrance. It was a small kindness — but one I have never forgotten.
Next Chapter — My Partner’s Parents and Faith
I believe that my partner’s character was profoundly shaped by the presence of their parents and by faith. In the next chapter, I would like to write about this in greater detail.
