A text from the ex wife asking if I could ask someone I know to hire on her 21 year old daughter asap, who hates me and is home from school this summer...then how my ex is "desperate" and how she'd really appreciate it...and how she's in huge financial trouble...the house won't sell...she's on unemployment this summer...and she can't pay for her daughter's phone...
Then a pic of my ex holding up a fish she caught at her new man's cottage a few weekend's ago.
I texted back only one response. I asked, "Seriously S____, do you love him?"
"Pretty Sure" was the prolonged response
I stepped back and looked at these texts...and I knew I was done...no anxiety, no "why's", no analyzing...just a small, little "goodbye" in my mind that I actually mouthed out loud in my living room...finally...I had done it.
I felt nothing. I didn't care anymore. After all her sex stuff, her lies, her excuses, her false love...I am done...completely. Go ahead and move on with him...my mind began to drift to the mornings waking up with her, the evenings in the back yard sipping coffee, the Christmases and birthdays. What I had and what she became...how I was a damn good husband who never cheated...not even flirted...how I cried when she came out of back surgery successfully, and how I put up with countless consecutive nights of her just sleeping on the couch because of her meds and depression.
I guess a year is about right. She loves another now. So go ahead...love.
But don't come to me when they foreclose on your house. Don't come to me when you need favours or money or anything. I wasn't perfect, but I loved her. And that's all I need to remember.
Then a pic of my ex holding up a fish she caught at her new man's cottage a few weekend's ago.
I texted back only one response. I asked, "Seriously S____, do you love him?"
"Pretty Sure" was the prolonged response
I stepped back and looked at these texts...and I knew I was done...no anxiety, no "why's", no analyzing...just a small, little "goodbye" in my mind that I actually mouthed out loud in my living room...finally...I had done it.
I felt nothing. I didn't care anymore. After all her sex stuff, her lies, her excuses, her false love...I am done...completely. Go ahead and move on with him...my mind began to drift to the mornings waking up with her, the evenings in the back yard sipping coffee, the Christmases and birthdays. What I had and what she became...how I was a damn good husband who never cheated...not even flirted...how I cried when she came out of back surgery successfully, and how I put up with countless consecutive nights of her just sleeping on the couch because of her meds and depression.
I guess a year is about right. She loves another now. So go ahead...love.
But don't come to me when they foreclose on your house. Don't come to me when you need favours or money or anything. I wasn't perfect, but I loved her. And that's all I need to remember.
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