Confession

I harbor a secret hope that somehow he will discover that I am writing about my . . . what, pain, attempts at recovery, loss, sadness. All that. This experience. Yes, that works. I secretly hope that he finds out.

I’ve made it so this blog will show up if he ever Googles himself. His name, screen name, that sort of thing. It makes me feel closer to him. I think that might make me officially crazy, but I don’t suppose there’s much I can do about that. I still say this is better than lying on the floor crying. Not that I don’t still do that, but you know.

Incidentally, I actually hope that he’s able to work things out with his wife and have a happy family thing with her and his daughter. I can’t imagine that’s going to be easy for them, but I do hope they manage. Granted, that’s secondary to my hope that everything magically go back to the way (he said) it was, where she was just the ex and he was in love with me, but I stil think that’s noteworthy. Maybe. If he contacted me right now, I’d have to make his wife fill out a permission slip or something before we talked much beyond a simple “Hey, how are you, how’s your daughter?”. But that’s just me. I doubt he’d have such concerns, being a cheater and all.

Wow. I just talked myself up and down quite a range of emotions, in a very short space.

Things to address in future posts:

thoughts about his wife

did he love me, did he play me?

fragmented parts of me

the damage done to my sense of who I am, the fledgling me that is trying to deal with what I perceive as a failed marriage

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