I'm supposed to be writing my article for the paper, I have an assignment due today and I haven't started. When I sat down in front of my computer I looked at the date... I heard Louisa, who was eating her breakfast, say "I thought you were going to write?". Yeah, I thought I was too - but then I saw it, that date.
It's supposed to be my 16th wedding anniversary, instead it's the 7th month that I have been separated. Honestly I wanted to cry, instead I did what I have been doing since we left - I pushed it down and moved on.
I have so many things I want to say, but it's too damn painful to say them. I want to scream, I want to hit something, I want to cry; I'm afraid if I do any of those things I might not stop. 20 years is a lot of memories to try to keep out.
The one thing I didn't understand about being divorced is you mourn for what you had and what you could have had. For months after we moved out I would see other families and found I was jealous for what they had, no matter how flawed. They had what I wanted and what my kids didn't have anymore.
You never know what will happen in life, nothing is a sure thing. I thought I did it the right way; we weren't kids rushing into anything, Matt and I dated for 5 years before we marched down the aisle. It still wasn't enough.
The kids are spending the weekend with their Dad and I plan to spend it by myself - I have those assignments to do. It's possible I might finally let go of all the emotions I'm keeping bottled up.
Jenna comes to love her 1948 pink bathroom
18 hours ago