If I had stayed married to my second husband, we would have been married a decade in June.
10 years. Even thinking about that now is emotional.
What that relationship taught me is marriage with the wrong person is a prison sentence. Thanks to some internet sleuthing, my bestie and I found out that he has someone else, and has a new baby.
A boy.
I remember how devastated I felt, and how I had to pull myself together. Then, I remembered what he told me before while trying to hang on to a relationship I was done with:
“I know you want a baby…”
The most valuable thing I got back from that relationship was…me. To fall in love with me again. To protect me again. It was only when he was out of my life that I could breathe again…and heal up. Rather than do better by me, do right by me, he thought he could manipulate me with a baby. It’s incredulous to even think about having a baby with him.
Do I hate him? No.
Do I love him anymore? No.
Does that startle me? No.
Do I want him back? Don’t make me cuss.
I Breathe Fire 