I'm fine, really, or so I'm good at telling myself.

I have gotten so good at making the best of any situation, of convincing myself I'm fine maybe as a coping mechanism to get through, that I often don't notice the negative effect on me in the moment.  The most obvious example of that is the chronic pain that developed in my first year or two of marriage that I carried with me until we separated.  My body was physically trying to get me to notice the negative effect of my marriage on me, yet I ignored it as I focused on making the best of a marriage that wasn't quite what I had hoped it to be.

I think I did it again when we separated.  Everyone around me was surprised that my ex-husband (the one who asked for the divorce) was choosing to stay so close by staying in the same apartment building.  Along the way, people even pointed out how it was affecting me.  But I was quick to reassure everyone that I was fine, that I wasn't willing to let his decisions affect me anymore.  I had convinced myself that I got this even if I wasn't very successful at convincing those in my circle supporting me.

Eighteen months later, I am realizing what a real disservice he did to my healing.  I'm sure it didn't help that he chose a first floor unit that looked out into common space that I couldn't easily avoid.  And he knew my schedule, making it seem a little less than coincidence the multiple times encountered him with his new girlfriend.  

His choices all seem really ugly to me right now.  I'm really disgusted at the man I once actually believed was my soulmate.  I can't wait until he finally fully moves out.  And I look forward to the day I can start a new chapter in a new city where I won't even encounter his ghost, let alone him in person.