What They Don't Tell You About Divorce in Your 20s

The worst night of my life started with pad Thai and cheap white wine. It was an ordinary Friday, which meant my husband and I were, as usual, throwing obscenities back and forth at each other.

After three years together, our arguments had swelled to a point where the only exit was separation -- the culmination of a slow, painful process for both of us. I can't even remember what we were fighting about that night, but it was probably something old and rehashed.

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