I’ve hesitated for so long with this blog. It needs to be written, but who enjoys pain that much.
Yes, we are still in same house. Different rooms. And all is well. This doesn’t go without saying some days are rough. Some days my hormones erupt, and sometimes I am too lazy to be single.
I’ve begged his return to my room. Not because I truly in my heart want him there. But because it seems so easy to just say, enough with this silly idea, and let’s keep pretending.
I am lonely sometimes. I want his husband role back. Where he is there, to be in photos, and conversations and future planning. But he’s not. He lives down the hall and is smart enough to know my tricks are that. Smoke and mirrors.
We both know the choice was right. Doesn’t mean it was easy.
In fact I have entered the dating scene several times. I am proud to say, I refuse to sit here and be miserable. I want to feel attractive. I need to get outside this little world and flirt, be seen and let loose.
My ex is fully supportive. Sometimes too much, or maybe I just read into it.
He knows I need to move on. He isn’t ready. It could be that I have threatened to murder any woman he so chooses to replace me with. I know it’s a double standard. I don’t care. He just shakes his head with a smirk, knowing my ways and declares himself a thankful bachelor with no intention of creating a crime scene.