I still miss him. A lot. But I’m angry. I’m angry at him, for lying, for hurting me SO fucking badly. I’m angry at him for treating his wife like an afterthought. I’m angry at him for not respecting his newborn daughter enough to treat her mother well, to stand up and be a man she would be proud of. I am angry at him for repeatedly saying I made him want to be a better person and then not actually managing to BE a better person. You want to be worthy of my love? Well, you aren’t. Not at all.
And so I’m right back to sad. It HURTS, dammit!