Maybe it's the second divorce. Maybe it's the way I tend to idealize. Sigh. It’s not the divorce. It’s not the way I tend to idealize. I wrote that in case James happens to stumble across this. In case he happens to find my computer, happens to find the secret folder, then happens to read it and laugh at how stupid I am to still be in love with him.
Side note: I remember him teasing me in the grocery store about still pining after my ex boyfriend when it had been 10 months. Ha! He had no idea what I was capable of.
Imagine the horror of embarrassment if he were to stumble across this.
You know what? In today's world, where so many of us feel lonely and unfulfilled, let him stumble across this. Let him know that I didn’t stop loving him. What's the fucking harm?
Things are becoming intolerable. Not living my truth is positively torturous. Why was I able to suffer along for years and now suddenly it doesn’t work? Why was I able to work 11 years and now, suddenly, every day at this company is unbearable? Working in a home office wondering what is going on with the rest of the world. I was never designed to work from home. But what else would I do? How could I support my kids and the mortgages? How do I live my truth? What is my truth?
The years after a divorce are the hardest that there are. The hardest that I know of, anyway. Imagine getting in a bike wreck because someone didn’t tell you about gravel. The next day you are sore and everything hurts. Add on lice that itch and constant nagging from your mother. That’s what divorce feels like. Last year was putrid (literally, I didn’t wear deodorant I was so defeated) and its no wonder I was having panic attacks. Thoughts plagued me of how I had screwed up my life.
Then there’s the marriages. Two under the bridge like a Cat 5 river tumbling down the mountain. Last month it dawned on me that I talked myself into both of them. Don't get me wrong, I loved both of my husbands fiercely but neither held a candle to James. Secretly, my heart has belonged to James for years. I loved him more than I have loved anyone else, before or since. Tragic story, I walked away from true love because I didn’t think I was worthy of it.
James was out of my league. He was charming and handsome and all the girls liked him. And he liked me?? No. So I told myself he was a cheater and only wanted me because he couldn’t have me. I told myself he would make a terrible boyfriend and proceeded to date another guy that I didn’t like nearly as much.
I think about how I hurt you and I ache. I'm sorry I gave up on you and I'm sorry I gave up on myself. I didn't want to hurt you, I loved you. I know today that if I had told you in the woods, “yes, let’s do this" you would have loved me. You would have healed me and I would have healed you. We would have been better off back then if I could have gotten out of my own way.
I’m finally letting myself admit how wrong I was about you. I go slow because it’s like dipping my toes in the lake of regret. It’s taken a long time for me to see that you did love me and you had no intention of leaving me.
Maybe I'm crazy for still thinking about him. Or maybe I'm just a deep feeler that is finally facing the mistake I made so many years ago.
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