Missing memory in my journal

There is a key memory missing from the journal I found this week.  I recognize that I didn't write everything down.  I wasn't a daily writer during this time.  But there is one memory from this time that I hung onto so tightly for a decade after it happened and to have that one memory missing makes me question the reality of or at least significance I attributed to that memory.

This is the story I have been telling myself - there was a day that my chronic pain was unbearable.  Despite the debilitating pain, I felt like I desperately needed the benefits of singing with my community that evening at choir practice but I didn't know if I would make it through with taking a pain pill.  The problem was that I didn't trust myself to drive on a pain pill.  So I asked my now ex-husband if he would drive me to and from choir practice.  He agreed.

In the years that would follow, I looked back at that moment as proof that he was supporting me as I tried to manage my pain, proof that he loved me, and proof that he was a good guy.  I repeated that story so many times in my head.  I remember even recalling it in the moments he was breaking my heart as he discarded me.

But in real time, I didn't write it down.  Maybe because it wasn't really that big of a deal and it wasn't really proof of anything.  As I type it out here, it sounds like such a small thing to do for a spouse and without a pattern of consistent similar small things, not really proof of anything.  And nothing in my journals or even my memory even hints at this being a pattern of consistent small things.  It was an isolated moment I hung onto a bit too tightly.

I inflated its meaning in my head.  But why?  To justify my loyalty?  To make it easier to honor the commitment that I took seriously?  To make myself feel just a little less unloved?