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I promise I won’t post about this every year.

I don’t promise this is the last time I talk about it though.

It’s been a year.

One year ago today.

“I like you. But I’m not attracted to you anymore.”

God that hurt.

I couldn’t say I blamed him. Hell. I didn’t think I was attractive, could I really blame him for feeling the same?

“I like you.”

That’s the part that really stung. That’s the part that took me a minute to grasp.

I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember completely being devastated by the second half of his statement. And then the moment of clarity. The moment of silence when the world stopped.

“I like you.”

Not love. And I knew. I knew before I asked even though I had no idea it was coming.

And I will never forget the way he said yes.

“Do you want a divorce?”

He said it like a sigh of relief. “Yes”. It came out as a rush of air and his shoulders suddenly and visibly relaxed.

Like he was so relieved I didn’t make him say the word.

And I know I was ugly crying. And I know I was hyperventilating.

And I could see it.

He didn’t care.

He had ZERO emotion.

He wasn’t the least bit concerned about my devastation. He didn’t care that I couldn’t breathe.

It was over. That instant. I knew we weren’t coming back from it. Even if we had gone to counseling. Because he didn’t care about me anymore. At all. It was so painfully obvious.

He just packed up his shit and left.

And I still don’t understand how. How he could leave me in that moment.

I had never cried like that. I had never cried to the point of hyperventilating. I’m surprised I didn’t pass out. I don’t know how I didn’t.

He just left.

I’ve replayed those moments in my mind SO MANY TIMES. I wish I could understand how he got to a point where he cared so little for me he couldn’t be bothered to make sure I would at least physically be ok.

I’ll never understand how he could show more compassion to his first wife than he did to me. I mean, that’s a completely different and wild story, but he did. He still cared about her after he left. For months.

I didn’t get 15 minutes.

And I don’t understand why. And I’m still furious that he would not give me answers and I’m never going to get over that.

I’m never going to be able to forgive him because he won’t give me what I need.

And I know. I know you think I should forgive him because that’s what grownups do and that’s what you do to move forward in life.

But I have moved on. Yes, there’s damage. I’m no longer broken but there are definitely cracks.

One year.

As hard as this day was, it got worse. Much worse. A year ago I thought my husband left me because I got too fat and he just didn’t love me anymore.

It wasn’t until the next morning that I found out that he was “in love” with someone else.

That’s when I found out my life was a lie. For who knows how long.

One year.

And I’m still mad about things. I’m still mad about how much I loved and supported and believed in him. I know I wasn’t perfect. I know I am not without flaws – then or now. But I gave him everything. For 12 years I gave him my all.

And he didn’t think I deserved even the most basic common courtesy. I became a stranger to him. One he owed no empathy, sympathy, or explanation.

And what is the even bigger kick in the pants? That I wanted so desperately to show him kindness. That when my lawyer recommended going for more money – as I was entitled to – I said no. I don’t want to break him.

This man left me in a literal heap struggling to breathe and I didn’t want to drain his bank account. I refused a forensic accountant because my dumb, naïve ass didn’t think it was possible for him to hide money from me. I knew he lied and cheated and yet somehow, I drew the line at he wouldn’t lie to me about money.

The saddest part of that? I mostly did it because I didn’t want to give anyone in his family or our mutual friends reason to hate me.

What the actual fuck?

He wronged me and I was afraid of losing friends and family.

And I did. I’ve lost some friends. They haven’t come straight out and said it, except Lanie, but their silence is obvious. And again, I never asked anyone to choose sides.

Mostly because I was afraid I would lose.

Daniel is charming there’s no denying it. And I admit I was afraid I would lose friends again.

It happened the first time. Why would this be different?

Look – to be clear, I’m not saying all these thoughts are rational. But it is how I felt and thought at the time.

And although I have lost a few friends and family, I kept most of you. And a lot of you are still friends with him. But I’ve also made a lot of friends.

One year.

I moved. I curled up in a ball and I cried. And I cried. And I cried. I was so sad. For MONTHS. And I hated it. I’m usually a pretty happy person but I couldn’t find happiness anymore. Or if I did, I couldn’t hold onto it. I knew it wouldn’t last forever but it still felt like it.

And eventually the cloud started to lift. I started counting the days since I last cried. And they became further and further apart. And I forgot to be sad.

I finally started being happy again.

I started going out. I reconnected with old friends. I made new friends. And life goes on.

One year.

It was without a doubt the worst year of my life. I pray to the universe I never experience anything like it again. And I hope none of you comes close to that either. I’m not suggesting I have a monopoly on pain or even that’s as bad as it gets – that is NOT a challenge universe – just that I don’t want anyone to experience that kind of pain.

Except maybe two people. I’m not naming names.

Nobody’s perfect.

If I had a mantra this year, this was it. Even though it was nearly impossible some days.

And while it was the worst year ever, there was still good.

This year has taught me I am stronger than I knew. I have learned who my real friends are.

I’ve learned to be a little kinder to myself. I’ve made so many new friends. I am unapologetically me.

I have a voice. This blog might be one of the biggest and best things to have happened to me this year. Going cold turkey from being with at least one person 24/7 to being alone all the time was a huge adjustment. Especially since I work from home.

And let’s face it – working from home was HUGE for me this year. I cannot imagine having to go to an office every day. I cried so much those first few months – I’m so grateful most of the time it was in private.

But this blog…starting with the Notes on Facebook. I cannot tell you how much it has meant to me. Your comments and words of encouragement truly helped me. When I couldn’t sleep or felt alone I would read your comments and I would feel better.

I cannot express how much that meant to me. To be perfectly honest, I’m crying right now thinking about how much each of you helped me this year. THIS is the part this post that made me cry. From gratitude. From happiness.

And I don’t know if my blog reaches any more people than those I initially reached on Facebook, but I can’t help but be a little proud of it. Every time one of you tells me you enjoy my blog or you know how I feel or that I have in any way helped you, I am so grateful for this voice. Even if it was borne from pain.

One year.

You’ve come a long way, baby.

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