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SIX WORD » LOVE

Your perfection’s only breaking my heart.

by _Miracle on September 29, 2012   |  FacebooktwitterTumblr


Someday-to-be-ex-husband,

It’s not your intent and I know you wish this hadn’t happened as much as I.

There is no penance between us, I gave that to the law and the rage over in years of prayer.
I don’t wish for your suffering or for you to feel the guilt because of mine but I could not be more broken or momentarily more faithless in the possibility of sustained happiness.

Conversation turning casually to the family that has never spoken to me again...painful.
I felt the loss of them, it only makes it feel current.
I’ll always love your mom, we each did what mothers do and stood by our child but we are done and that is the past.

I’ve got to put myself back together and you can’t be the one to be there.
I’ve got to get myself together so my daughter stops feeling the guilt of revealing the truth.

Please don’t mistake my forgiveness for a hope for any future.

I never trusted anyone more than you and it has been hard enough to reconcile the loss of trust in myself.

You knew me well and my reaction was tame.
I forgave in-lieu of rage.

Never had I been so prostrate on hands and knees...
Begging god for a different truth or asking for so much forgiveness for the thoughts that were running through my mind.
Perhaps our continued connection is what’s eating up my insides, it’s time to end.

Let’s do one last thing together...take care of business unload what’s left so we can each start again less burdened.

No more birthday gifts or knowing the perfect thing to say.
It’s too hard not to become numb...let’s this be done.

I’ve decided to be over what has occured as I've had to so many things before.

You gave me many things and once healed so many hurts, to keep that, I have to let you go by more than thousands of these miles and the years that have passed.

Let's finalize the divorce and leave each other where we belong...as a memory.

Your,
Someday-to-be-ex-wife

Difficult conversations may be best unspoken.
Gut’s wrenching, hearts breaking, souls aching.
He holds hope? My stomach drops.
The end must become “The End”.

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