First of all, he was not my type. He was nice, considerate, unselfish and grounded; qualities I’d never experienced in a man. Usually, I went for the self centered, screwed up, “I’m lost, will you be my mother” type.
I had no intention of forsaking my wedding vows. I had strong morals and never could have imagined going against them. I was never even tempted to stray.
I didn’t want to get burned. I didn't want to be the other woman, but I wanted him with all my might.
Somehow, we both got carried away. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but before long, I knew nothing was ever going to be the same.
At times, it felt so odd being with a man in such an intimate way who was not my husband.
This very easy divorce had become very difficult. I thought I was in the express lane and it was all fast tracks from there. Think again.
Not long after my mom died, my dad pretty much kicked me out of the house. He never said, “Get out of my house,” but instead, I came home one night to find all my clothes scattered all over our front lawn.
I had just turned thirty. That was enough in itself to be depressed about. I never thought I would be this age and feel this worthless. I was supposed to be “somebody.” I guess you could say I was slightly disappointed at the outcome.
I was always on guard and I was always prepared for him to be upset with me. I had lived feeling uneasy and tense for so long.
Living with myself wasn’t all that easy. I was not the young girl I once was. Once upon a time when I looked in the mirror, I saw this happy glow. Now nothing glowed except the leftover face cream from the night before.
I was physically attacked by a woman who didn’t even know me. Yes, my boyfriend was her former husband, but she tried to ruin me.
He would say things like, “But you are my wife!” when I didn’t do something that he wanted me to do. His expectations were not realistic.
I didn’t feel like I was stealing someone’s husband; I felt like they were already apart.
Being married definitely took work. When we fought, I felt like I wanted to float away and drown, whereas before I knew I could walk away without any strings attached.
I don’t know if this happens in all relationships, but I just got so sick of his all too familiar stories. I had heard these stories so many times that I could have recited them myself.
Even though their marriage had been dead for over two years (her words, not mine), this put her in the role of the innocent. She was now a woman scorned. ~Shattered Reality
He wanted revenge and I knew he would not stop until he got it. I had to hope he would run out of fuel.
I had to get used to it because my life was no longer safe and I was no longer protected like I once was.
I could only defend myself so much. It was my word against his. There was no evidence, nor was there any proof. My word meant very little.
I tried, I really tried, to stick with it. I planned to grow old with this man and possibly die in his arms.
