And yet, there is nobody I’d rather talk to, be near, look at, than my husband, an unprecedented feeling that overcame me the moment we met.
But at the time, I honestly didn’t think I was hurting anyone, not even myself. I didn’t think much at all, in fact. Yes, I was gorgeous and lucky in love, but I truly believed that I was also a decent person who deserved her good fortune.
Somewhere deep down, I know I’m in the wrong. I know I’m rationalizing my actions, and worry I might even be manufacturing problems with Andy to get this result. I also know that I’m only inviting more trouble into my life. But for now, I feel good. Really good. Better than I’ve felt in a long, long time.
It’s the feeling of belonging. Right here where I am. In this house. With my parents and Charlotte. The people who know all my stories, from the beginning. The people who know me.
The feeling of leaving, even when you don’t want to. The feeling that sometimes things just can’t be fixed.
So much so that it seemed too good to be true. And so it shouldn’t have surprised me to discover that it was too good to be true.
What I can’t stand are the judgmental hypocrites – people who talk a big Christian game yet don’t even make a cursory attempt to follow the Golden Rule, let alone some of those pesky commandments.
I think of how life takes unexpected twists and turns, sometimes through sheer happenstance – like running into Leo on the street. Sometimes through calculated decisions – like Margot’s. Or mine, tonight, when I left Leo. In the end, it can all be called fate, but to me, it is more a matter of faith.
A feeling that I know so little about the world. And maybe the tiniest bit of excitement that there are real possibilities in life, too.
It’s a matter of curiosity – and anyone who says they are utterly indifferent to what their significant exes are doing is, in my opinion, either lying or lacking a certain amount of emotional depth. I’m not saying it’s healthy to be past-obsessed, ferreting out details of every ex. But it’s simply human nature to have an occasional, fleeting interest in someone whom you once loved.
I smile at my husband’s unwavering thoughtfulness. Sometimes he really does seem too good to be true.
I exposed every part of myself to him, keeping no secrets, no defense mechanism in place.
Look on the bright side. Be grateful for what you have. Count your blessings. Optimism is the foundation of courage.
He was a symbol of independence and possibility. The ultimate fantasy.
You can’t go back,” he says. “Just look forward. You’re doing the right thing now.
I nod, thinking the whole concept of the path not taken is partly what has always troubled me.
Ellen laughs, as we’ve both made fun of those nauseating Facebook posts that use a religious concept to justify their thinly veiled bragging.
But I still remained paralyzed by indecision, reluctance, and endless second-guessing...
I’ve often let my goals supersede the journey – and the love of what I’m doing. A constant battle to stay in control, get to the next level, ensure that my life stays perfectly, carefully scripted.
To be clear, I have no problem with religion or people who are religious, even those who are outspoken about their faith. What I can’t stand are the judgmental hypocrites- people who talk a big Christian game yet don’t even make a cursory attempt to follow the Golden Rule, let alone some of those pesky commandments.