Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
So what is it? What had made her so willing to just give up on us and what we’d spent the last quarter of a century building together? Why was she so hellbent on moving on and not forgiving me? If she’d asked, I would’ve ended things with Anne. I would’ve missed the fun we had together, but now that things have come this far, I realize that I would’ve chosen the life I had over anything else.
JOLENE
Sometime between stepping into the bathroom and getting out again after a long hot shower, I changed my mind about going out on the town. Suddenly, the thought of being around people wasn’t so appealing, and I felt even worse when I stood in front of the mirror and took stock of myself.
Beneath all the bravado and my seemingly new insight on life and things and deciding to move on, I realized that I hadn’t really mourned the end of my past life the way I should. I’d basically just tossed all those feelings in a drawer and locked it, never to be revisited again, and who could blame me?
Exactly what is it that I’m supposed to dwell on here? The fact that perimenopause has been kicking my ass for the better part of the last couple of years, or that my childhood sweetheart, the man who had promised me forever, had imploded our lives for someone less than half his age?
I barely recognized the woman in the mirror looking back at me. That woman wanted to be strong and stay the course of disinterest in this life that was coming to an end soon with the divorce, but inside, I couldn’t help but feel those human pangs of loss.
It's not that I’m pretending to be fine; I think I genuinely am in a strange way because, well, I have to be. It’s not like I can change any of those things now, can I? And I’ve never been one to throw myself to the floor and kick up a fuss over things that were pretty much out of my control because I hate wasting my time.
But I also think that maybe I need to go through the process now before it creeps up on me later, as things have been known to in the past. I shouldn’t swallow my feelings and fears just to appear tough to the people around me. I could care less what my stupid ex thinks at this point, but my children and friends need to see the reality of what all these new changes are really doing to me.
My daughter, especially, should know that it is okay to have moments of self-reflection and weakness when going through something like this. I want her and my sons to know that it’s okay to have feelings of weakness while being as strong as they can be in any given situation, but was I going about this the right way?
Funnily enough, I worry more about the impression I’m giving my kids and the example I’m setting for them with my actions than I do about the end of my marriage. It’s true that once I learned of the affair, that part of me died, and I buried it before it could rear its ugly head ever again.
I knew there was no coming back from such a betrayal, no matter what my soon-to-be ex might say; for me, the moment he stuck his pecker in someone else was the last moment he was anything meaningful to me. I mean, the man has known me practically half my life, and other than Sheila, he knows better than anyone that adultery is a very hard no for me.
If, knowing how I felt about that, he could still do what he did, why should I waste my time trying to hold onto something that obviously meant nothing to him? I have too much pride and self-love to stoop as low as fighting over him with that child whom he seems to prefer.
But I’ve come to realize with time that that was just one side of the matter. Anger had led me to make the precise cut I had in the beginning, but the girl who’d gotten married amidst dreams of happily ever after was still in there somewhere, and that poor child was going to suffer if I didn’t at least acknowledge some hard truths.
Like the fact that everything about my life was about to change, I’m no longer going to be someone’s wife with all the responsibilities that entails. I’ll no longer be half of a couple and no longer have to look after someone else’s wants and needs. From here on out, with the kids gone, it’s just going to be me. What the hell am I supposed to do to fill that void?