Thanksgiving is this week and I have been struggling with facing the holiday. This morning I had yet another chat with my ex, known around here as the FI, as in f&@#$*g idiot, for reasons which should by now be patently clear. Today's discussion featured version 5.0 of her explanation for her sudden decampment in June.
So I'm standing in my kitchen waiting for an explanation that I know will never come, waiting for an apology for the way in which she callously tore apart our family. Waiting for her to acknowledge that she broke our little boy's heart and left me to make the repairs. Trying to get her to understand how much she hurt me and how much she hurt him. And frankly, I'm listening to her and fearing that there must be things about me that make me impossible to love.
Then the doorbell rings and a box of beautiful roses is placed in my hand, sent by a friend with better timing than she knows. And I realize that I grasped endlessly for the love and affection of someone who is fundamentally unable to care about another human being. Someone who never appreciated the life we had built together. Someone who is broken.
I know that I will still hurt and that things will still be hard. But more and more I see that a happy life is within reach.
the flowers are beautiful and it is always amazing how friends come through a just the right point.
ReplyDeleteThat kind of timing makes it hard not to believe in serendipity. But then there's Jersey traffic.
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