Unmarried
There's this strange space between him leaving and the unsigned papers. A space where you're not quite divorced but absolutely not married. The feeling is raw. Embarrassing. As lawyers go back and forth along with the children between two houses, it's two steps forward and five steps back. Moving on is easy, until it isn't. The day is the same as it was before he left. Wake up. Wake kids up. School. Work. Sports. Dinner. Sleep. During this time, you survive. You smile and keep moving. Don't stop moving. Twenty years of truths come to light. Reflection happens daily as tears stream down my face, chest aches that come and go like the waves in a lake. A lifetime of pain filled with mini pockets of pure bliss.
