My ex-husband died tonight.
I’ve written that into scripts and scenes and backstories and 1.4 million entries of my journals.
But then it really happens. And luckily, God wrote this script. Because, over the 22 years I’ve known my ex, it hasn’t been easy. It was often fun. I laughed and cried and laughed some more. I got cancer. I attended a lot of Al-anon meetings. I wished his death on at least one major occasion, and luckily God knew me better than that weakness of character and said No.
I loved this man. Even throughout the hurtful times, I would see what drew me to him. A heart that was bigger than the ocean, especially for the downtrodden. A desire to always laugh and have fun and go out where the people were young and alive. A deep desire to be better than the addiction that plagued him most…
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