Last night, he ended it.

Just like that.

April 16th next year we would have been our ten year anniversary. We never made it.

The simplest explanation is that he's found someone else. He's dumping me for a blonde, 20-year-old model, who's witty and into cars. They're not talking forever - yet. But he does want to see where this leads, and to explore the...single life, I guess. The life he might otherwise have had these past ten years.

I am so stupid. It makes sense now that he never wore his wedding ring, he never introduced me as his wife. I never met any of his coworkers or the people he knows from his car forum. Ten years. Ten FUCKING years.

I"m so lost. It's been amicable, and I have been reasonable and curiously still - when I am not bursting into tears, which I have been sporadically since 8 o'clock last night. Though I know all the answers, because we've talked and talked about this, the same questions rail in my head, "Why don't you love me anymore? What did I do wrong? Why are you doing this? What are you doing to us?!"

Can't seem to get my head on straight. Changed my FaceBook profile pic to one of us, in the sunlight, holding drinks. Though it makes me cry to look at it, I want to see it up there. I want to be reminded that we had *something*. We have so few pictures, so few...

I want to chop my hair off and paint myself a mask, a cruel mask that is tough enough to take this, because I can't, I can't...