And it isn’t me. It’s her.
We spent some quality time together this weekend, my husband and I. He’s finally asked for a divorce. I wish it could be that simple for him. For me.
Just sign the papers and walk away. It’s not the simple. I want him to be happy. I really do. I look back on our lives and the time spent in the yellow house. Raising the girls, all the chaos and silence. I mourn for that young couple with three little ones, thinking they’d make it.
My Sir has placed another woman under consideration for sub. It is crushing my heart. I want to be happy for him. I’m not. I’m angry and bitter. I love him and I hate her. It’s a fresh wound. Perhaps if he hadn’t moved back and spent time in my bed this would be easier.
I’m going to be okay.
Just not today.