A Better Place

I awoke feeling a sense of relief. I was going to wake up and take a shower. I called Frenchie we spoke for a bit, and then Books. Mark and I are at a standstill with our recovery. Apparently we both suck at separating. I know God wants me to be close by him. I do feel better if I’m choosing to recover from all of this. Because in reconciliation there is a whole family. The one where a Mom, Dad and four children chose to walk together instead of apart. Although most of the time I just want the pain to stop. I want this nightmare to end that I could marry such a cruel person. Mark claims he no longer wants to be that person, but I have my doubts. I find him in running the same conversations, bearing the same resentments. He is too comfortable, I suppose I am too. It’s nice having him here, but if I am choosing to do the marriage bit then I must press on to see if this wreck of a marriage can be saved. But most of the time I have to confess I want the process to speed up so I can get out and start a new beginning on my  own, with our children. Mark says I’m romanticizing about the future. But I like romanticizing about a bright future for me, one where I won’t ever settle for someone who doesn’t appreciate me, or undervalue my love for them. I will know now, I’ve lived through it and can tell the signs all too well.

I know I won’t settle again.

I just want to be in a better place.

I know this isn’t it.

Taking the kids to go swimming and visit with Rizzo.

 

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One thought on “A Better Place

  1. If it’s any consolation, we also suck at separating, did it three times, longest was eight months, bu he lived in our farm cottage, and we saw each other most days. We are fantastic friends, and it shows.

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