Progress

For anyone who knows me or for those few faithful readers of this blog, let me apologize in advance for sounding like a broken record.

Recovering from my divorce has been such a healing process. I am still mourning the death of my marriage, my family. There's ups and downs. "Ah-ha" moments and tearful moments. Happiness and anger. Relief and frustration. I have felt it all, and sometimes in the same day.

After my "eye-opening" day last week, which included several harsh, but much- appreciated, pep-talks from a few of my friends, I am standing a little taller. Which brings me to my latest step forward.

Last night, my mind started racing and thinking about my ex-husband. My chest, once again, started to ache. The fire of anger began to kindle in the pit of my stomach. How can anyone hurt someone he loves, or even half-way like, the way he hurt me? Why is he the family man with his girlfriend and her three kids instead of with us? What do they have that we don't?

As I reached for my phone to ask him for the millionth "How could you do this to me?," I put the phone down. There's nothing he can say that can un-do what he did. There's no right answer to that question. What's done is done. He's the one that has to live with what he did - I know that I was a wonderful, faithful wife to him. To quote Blair Waldorf said on Gossip Girl, "Once men have tasted caviar, it baffles me that they settle for catfish."

For the first time in a long time, I fell asleep quickly last night. And slept the whole night.