EMILY PRATT SLATIN

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She/Her/Hers Lesbian

Retired Career Fire and EMS Lieutenant-Specialist, Writer, and Master Photographer, living in Vermont.

My Marriage Is Over

July 15, 2026—Middletown Springs, Vermont (Home)

Yesterday, Amelia told me our marriage was over.

There was no shouting. Just Amelia walking into my room with a letter, followed by a quiet conversation that ended a chapter of my life I believed would last forever.

I told her that if this was truly what she wanted, we would sit down with our lawyer and discuss it so we could part ways and still maintain our friendship.

The first person I called was my best friend, Maddie.

When Maddie and I first met, I told her that I would only ever call at a bad hour if it was important. Otherwise, I would text. I called. She answered immediately. I could hear it in her voice—she was hoping for good news while already fearing the worst because of the hour.

Some conversations only exist between best friends.

I called Maddie at bedtime, only minutes after reading Amelia’s letter and trying to process the realization that my marriage was ending.

I am completely confused and caught off guard less than a week before my forty-seventh birthday.

This year, my birthday falls on a Saturday. It also coincides with one of the most meaningful moments of my professional life—being celebrated as a writer in the place where I grew up.

Life has always had an uncanny sense of timing. Every time it begins to feel complete, it seems to demand something in return.

This summer began with a speeding ticket that still makes no sense to me. It will likely end with a divorce decree.

All I wanted was for my life to be exactly what it was yesterday. I understand that this is life, but life is killing me.