Slap Happy

My discourse in self-pity is nearing its end. Everyone has to submerge themselves in it once in awhile, and the advice of my friends and family has been to submerge, maybe even go under holding my breath, and then get out and wrap myself in a warm towel. I am sitting at this computer with warm towels wrapped around my shoulders and draped across my knees. And it's just in time to celebrate Christmas properly! My plans for tomorrow (Christmas Day) have consisted of celebrating with a bottle of Grey Goose and a jar of olives, but now I think I'll go over to my friend's house for dessert and maybe a glass of wine. Maybe.

Clarity hit me while I was under. That's what did it. I realized that maybe my marriage was on the rocks, but we were still in the boat! The boat wasn't even leaking yet - our children were safe and dry and warm. But then he jumped out, and the splash was such that we all got soaked, me mostly. And for some reason I spent the last several months thinking that maybe I had pushed him, but knowing I didn't. I was loving the right way. Truth be told, I still love the right way. And what he did was wrong, pure and simple. It was wrong. I'll take the blame for perhaps sitting in the boat on the rocks for too long, but leaving like he did, was wrong. So, I can't feel sorry for myself any longer because the issue isn't really mine. I think of my brothers and a few male friends that I have and envision them in the same type of marriage that I had - and I know, acutely, that if they were to leave, if at all, they would have done it the right way. In my months of self-pity I was slapping the wrong person in the face! Now that clarity has surfaced, I am turning my hand outward. In my mind, I am taking aim and punching him straight across the mouth. And it feels sensational - sensational to know, finally, that I deserved better (and so did my kids).