I think I might be losing the battle. I swear, I’m trying to stay strong, resolute… but I feel myself slipping. I want to reach out to my husband. I fucking miss him. It’s harder and harder to stay away, to not talk to him, to not see him.
I wish I could have held onto the mad from a few months ago. That would certainly make things easier. Or, at least keep clear all the reasons I thought this divorce was the right idea in the first place, but noooo. All I think about are the good times, the things that made me laugh, made me happy. And most frustrating of all is the thought that our marriage was, for the most part, a good one. I know you’re calling me eighteen kinds of fool right now, but it’s true.
I’m too involved, too blinded by all the messy emotions, and I wonder what it looks like to the outside world. Did our marriage always seem destined to fail? Did I only talk about the bad? Would it surprise anyone to hear that things were pretty wonderful 97% of the time? Or, is that the doubt playing tricks on me, making me see things as better than they actually were?
I hate this.