Well, it’s been a while. But now I’m going through a divorce, and I guess suffering brings me back to writing.
It’s tough, I won’t lie. Especially since my soon-to-be-ex is in a relationship, has been in a relationship for a month before serious divorce discussions have started. Especially since, a part of me still loves a part of him. A part of me still wants a part of him to hold me tight in his arms and whisper that he loves me. But I guess I am free now too. Free from our constant fighting, free from needing him, free from emotional drama. There are days when I’m ok, when I feel glad and calm to be just with the kids, to not wait for him to come back, to not call him and to not guilt trip him once he’s back. I’m free from that, but then there are days when I want our late night talks back, to read to each other out loud passages from books, to snuggle up against each other as we watch dumb movies (because dumb movies was all we could agree on).
It’s tough, I won’t lie. Sometimes I smile but I also often cry. But what to do? He loves another. 17 years together, 13 years of marriage through tears, laughter, fighting and making up… and now he loves another. He sends her hearts with texts, he never sent me hearts. I didn’t need hearts, I laughed at hearts, we laughed at them together and at the cutsie poopsie messages some lovers send to each other. But now he sends her hearts. He tells her that he loves her, he rarely told me that. I thought it was innate, that he didn’t need to say that, that an earnest look into each other’s eyes, a tight and intimate hug was all we needed to prove our love to each other. But now he types out “I love you” to her, “I miss you” to her, all followed by hearts of different colors.
He tells me not to feel like crap, that things were broken before but how can I not? Things might have been broken, but I hoped we could fix them. I guess we couldn’t, I guess I couldn’t, I guilt tripped him too much and he just left me for another. Another with long legs and sexy body, who accepts him as he is. Another who is nothing like me, but who is better than me, at least in the eyes of the man that I loved. 17 years together, 13 years of marriage… how can I not cry, how can I not feel miserable.
Thank God for girlfriends who support me, who come over and take me out when all I want is to stay in bed, thank God for the kids who force me to get up every morning and take care of them as if nothing has happened. Thank God, because if not for them, depression would have settled in and eaten me alive by now.