It seems that the farther out I get from the “Great Escape” the few things that were easier at the beginning get harder.
Like only thinking of the bad times.
Like seeing this whole mess clearly, without any yearnings to be back in a marriage that was killing my soul bit by painful bit.
I can remember the good times now, and frankly, I’d rather not. Remembering the good with the bad just brings up a whole new level of pain that I would rather not experience right now, thankyouverymuch.
It is so strange, thinking of X’s new girlfriend—or whatever she is to him now, I’m really not privy to that information. I feel like someone has usurped me, someone has taken over my place, even though it’s a place I know know know that I do not want back.
So jealousy juxtaposed with that certainty is an odd feeling, indeed.
If I thought living with him was a mindfuck, living without him is more so.
I had no idea, months ago, that I would be feeling such grief on the eve of this whole thing becoming final. I thought it would be pure relief.
One thing that is becoming apparent to me, is that there is no purity of feeling in this. Only grief mixed with relief mixed with pain mixed with hope mixed with anger mixed with anticipation mixed with anguish.