A year since the separation

This week marks a year since the night he told me he was done. I’ve come a long ways in that year, farther than I ever could have imagined. I’ve learned a lot about myself. I’ve reclaimed my energy. I’ve found my spark again. I’ve leaned into the joy and embraced life. And I’ve started building a beautiful community that had been sadly lacking while I was married.

But to have been blindsided and still have so many questions that I'm trying to accept will never be answered makes some days still so hard.

I invested so much in a man who didn't even think I was worth a few conversations, who didn't care enough about me to give us a chance to build the relationship he wanted and needed, who was so blinded by his own insecurities that he refused to see my value.

And as I watch him start dating again, my heart and mind fight over whether I hope he truly finds happiness or whether I hope he learns a lesson when karma comes back to bite him in the butt.  And that internal struggle is the most confusing and strange thing to feel going through me.  But maybe that's because love and anger go hand in hand here.  If I hadn't truly loved (a feeling that doesn't just go away), I wouldn't feel so deeply about the betrayal.