Today is hard. But don't I say that every day? It's been 5 weeks to the day since you dropped the bomb on everything. 2 weeks ago today we were to wed. This time (1:06am) on that day would have been deep into our wedding night. Waves crashing on the beach outside the open doors of our room, beyond the private pool and deck. I would know what your dress looks like by now... but now I'll never even see it at all. Never see the perfection of your curves in it. Your smile in the sun, bare feet in the sand, bouquet in hand. I would have cried my eyes out in happiness. I actually haven't cried in all of this. A friend said that she thinks some things hurt so badly that even tears can't do it justice. I think she is profound. So much gone. So much lost. So pointless. Tonight too many of the really bad thoughts keep winning. The images of the hands of other men gliding over the body of my wife. You smiling up at them. The images of your hands on them... and worse... a...
My Birthday: Sat alone in the house. Thanksgiving: Sat alone in the house. Christmas: Sat alone in the house. New Year's: Sat alone in the house. Valentine's: Sat alone in the house. "Our house..."our".... fucking bullshit. I've now been in "our" house longer than you lived here with me. You're a fucking coward. You're a fucking liar. Hope you're having a wonderful time fucking whatever random dude you're fucking now. And I say random since you could have only known him a short time when you started fucking him soon after we were supposed to marry. Although I get the feeling that whomever you're fucking now isn't the same random dude you were fucking right after you broke it off. Which means you're already on to yet another random dude. What a whore. And if it isn't some "random" dude.. if it's someone you knew when we were together... well then that makes you a lying, cheating fucking whor...
Today was hard. It has been a month since you altered the course of our lives forever. At first the days were a dichotomy: either depression or rage. Depression over the loss of something that had so much good, so much true, pure, healthy love. Rage over the frustration at your complete lack of willingness to try and improve the portion of our life that was causing you pain. Slowly the amplitude of the days lessened to either sadness or anger. Each was dictated by endless conversations/negotiations/arguments I would have with you in only my head. If they were pleading and bargaining I would be sad over the waste of the rare thing we were lucky enough to find in one another. If they were attempts to get you to realize the irrationality of your decision to throw it all away without even allowing me a chance to learn from my mistakes and make our life even better than it already was I would be frustrated and angry. There was never any in-between. Only sadness or anger. I preferred n...
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