I sat at this screen for quite awhile. I even decided that I had important things to do on Facebook instead. I paid some bills. I am unsure what to write, but the inner torment is so loud, I have to get it out.
I have been separated for 18 months or so and divorced for 10 weeks. My ex wife told me she is engaged. That’s weird and all, but not really what is eating me. In all honesty, it is some of it. I don’t want it to be. I tell myself all the mean things she has done to me and to my relationship with my daughters. I recall the anger and hatred and nasty things said. I play back the hurts that led to the divorce. I think about the heart soaring events since my divorce. I think of beautiful friends and family. I think of the people I have met since then. I think of meeting myself and getting to know me. But for some reason, the sneaky thoughts of this was the woman I married to spend my life with pop up. The contrast of who I married and the demonic person cussing me out is emphasized. My brain goes right to thinking about the past and the future and what will be and has been said about me and to me. IT is a little painful.
The real trauma for me is my relationship with my daughters. I was there to pick up my youngest daughter when the bomb was launched. During the divorce, the girls were confided in and given way to much information. They were sautéed in anger and basted in hate. Unfortunately, it worked and my oldest has decided to refuse to see me. I was there to get my youngest. She refused to get in the car and the conversation about it was brutal. My little girl is 12 and the innocence is trying to be gone. She cusses and looks a little shocked when she does. My heart fell, my soul shrank as she said she didn’t love me. She grabbed her bags and went back into the house and the engaged ex did nothing.
My magnificent magnifying mind started thinking about this new guy trying to take my role away. He gets to see them daily. He gets to see them grow. He gets the good parts of their attitude and behavior. I feel like the runt waiting for left overs.
The part that hurts is my daughters. They say they hate me and don’t want to see me. I get called horrific names. I am getting replaced and with the attitude they have, they will cling to him instead of me. I love them so much and I don’t fit anymore. The worst part.