I woke up wide awake at 02:00.
I’d had a bad dream.
In it, the children’s father walked back into our lives, and we all went back to who we were before the separation.
I was angry.
So angry, that I woke up crying, as the hateful “Why’s?” swarmed in with their biting stings.
I was angry with myself for ever having loved him. Angry with ‘him’ for not loving me back. Angry that I wasted time not being myself, and now I have to figure out WHO I am. Angry that after all the hell and pain, I still have to rely on ‘him’ to pay bills.
I don’t regret staying home to raise the kids.
I DO regret not keeping my foot firmly in some kind of door–even a small one, wedged open just enough to let me breathe some fresh air.
Then the answer came to me.
It is what it is, so deal with it.
Be THANKFUL that he left.
Because I finally feel alive again. I even feel happy.
But content. Satisfied.
For SUCH a long time, I felt like I was waiting for life to begin.
Now life has rushed upon me with a vengeance–it has 20 years of lost time to make up for.
I feel a lot of emotions.
But the important point is that I FEEL.
This is a hard time. But it’s not even a chapter title in the book of my life–it’s just a plot point to make the story more compelling.
And who knows the twists and turns that will unfold in this narrative?
We’ll just have to keep turning the pages, one at a time.
Because after all the anger and pain, I finally have a story to tell.
And it’s mine.