A dreary moment for rumination on this dreary subject (or how to beat a dead horse)

     and btw, I've always hated that saying.

So I haven't posted in a while because it is that time of year again, one of those times I miss my husband the most.  

I haven't posted because nobody wants to hear about this crap anymore. I get that! I should be over him, over the divorce, over his betrayal. You'd think a heart would mend faster when it has been betrayed - I certainly want it to - but logic and desire apparently have nothing to do with healing. I read recently that a divorce is like a controlled explosion: everyone on the outside is ok. The worst thing is no one else is in it with you. That's why I don't write about it every freaking day because that's how often I still think about it. Every day. How pathetic is that? 

I'm not saying that I don't bear some blame here but so what? I was a faithful wife whose story started and ended with her husband. The man who promised to love and cherish should have tried harder to honor his vows. When it comes to honor, the bastard has no clue. But that's a sociopath for you.   I digress . . . 

On a much cheerier note, here is why I miss him so much right now:

BECAUSE THE A-HOLE IS NOT HERE TO HELP ME CLOSE THE HOUSE, PICK UP, PACK UP, help with the dogs and drive a trillion miles.  Because I'm in a hell hole in Pennsylvania (surprisingly clean) full of scary lowlifes. 

NOT for any other reason. That is progress!! Listen, I don't forgive him and maybe I never will and I DO know I am better off without him. Am I bitter? Hell yeah! But despair can anesthetize you into a stupor - been there done that - so I choose to channel my pissedoffedness into ANGER right now because it gives me the adrenaline to get these things done. And, I should be over this in about 2 weeks. (Of course, the holidays are coming. oy vey) 

Time (again) for walking into the future, away from anger and disappointment and regret, to believe that my future is NOT a well of endless lament. Even if it is tonight. 

So, I am taking the dogs out now, taking my pepper spray and running the gauntlet of beer soaked smokers outside the front door of the hotel. They are men.  Of course.

ADDENDUM:  My friend, Sue from Key Largo, just called me to say she would help me unload when I get to Florida. She is worth a hundred of my former husband easily. (and she is in her 70s  ;)