We talked

He came home. We talked.

I said:

  1. I’m not going to scream.
  2. I’m going to a family lawyer to find out my rights.
  3. I am good enough, even though my mind will try to plague me with thoughts to the contrary.
  4. Our daughter didn’t deserve the fate of growing up in a divorced home.

He said:

  1. You didn’t deserve this.
  2. I was hoping we could go to counselling and try to work on our marriage.
  3. I am sorry.
  4. I love you.

And what of the girl? – I want nothing to do with her, she ruined my life. How could you do this to me? – I have no good answer to that.

My trust level – 0

My desire – to become a nun. To have all those sisters help me raise my daughter. The sense of family would possibly keep her rooted and safe. A nunnery would be easier.

The much harder thing to do is to attempt counselling and endure all the painful revelations and conversations. Much easier to step out of this marriage, like he did.

How do you get up off the floor and try? I don’t know. Do you stay because of your child? Maybe. Can there ever truly be trust again? Can you ever truly find joy with that person again? Can you ever feel safe with them?

I have no answers.


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