What’s wrong, you ask? Oh, nothing. Just that I put myself and my big dumb bleeding heart on the line again only to have it soundly beaten into the ground for the second- No, * third * time this year. Twice by my husband, and now this.
So I’m back in recovery mode. I refuse to demonize him ( haha, insiders). He is nothing more than a victim of Stockholm syndrome. Is it pathetic, that he returned to a soul-crushing life? Yes. But he will never be my enemy. I will always have love for him, I will always want the best for him. And he will always know how to find me.
I have to take the time to contemplate the purpose of his presence in my life and come to some sense of peace with what I have learned from this. Try not to miss him. Try to get his scent out of my pillow, try to get the feel of his touch off my skin, his fangs from out of my neck. Forget the sound of his heartbeat. Focus on myself again. Write a damn book already.
When he left me, he proved that I am stronger than he is. That alone tells me that I will be fine, in time. And I hope that when he surfaces again, he is stronger, better, and truly free.
I know I will be.