Five years ago, this is the weekend when our love began. Again. We referred to it as "Holy Weekend" in the years that followed, and oh god, there were moments when I felt perfectly in love in this life. Loved. He had me believing- completely- that I was his Sweet Baby and we lived for one another. He was my second husband, but he was my first true love. It happened in '98 when we met. It happened again instantaneously five years ago. As swiftly it came in, it's now all gone up in smoke.
I know he's thought of me, and that helps. But only in a way. He must miss me some on our weekend, on the first since he left. But he was the one who did the leaving.
The thing I tell myself is that I chose my kids, and now I live for them exclusively. But the truth is that he abandoned me, and he's left me utterly left and unwanted. The greatest love of my life fizzled up and died in just a few short years. Just past pathetic, the two and a half years of our marriage can only be classified as...sad. Our Holy Weekend was a phony, a sham, a gimmick, and a lie.
He never really loved me. Never. Not with the kind of love that sustains. Not really.
I wasn't hard to deal with. I didn't expect much, and I asked for even less. I just asked for room to be me. I never lied or pretended to be someone I am not.
I am strong. I will fight with all my heart for what I believe, for love. For what's right.
If I could be different, I would have been. I would have done it for him. I would have let him "be the man." I would have let him discipline my kids in the too-harsh ways he wanted; but it never was my choice to make. He wasn't the greatest love of my life. I had already found it when he blew in with the hope of autumn five years ago.
This weekend is for my kids now. The hope remains, and I will still feel completely loved.
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