wallowing...

I don't write much right now since all i am consumed with is my grief and suffering.

One minute I'm fine, able to move on, looking forward. The next I'm in a puddle of tears. I know it will help when I'm not in this house anymore, but right now it's everything I can do just to leave the house some days.

I suppose what I'm still grappling with is the fact that for the last two years I've gone to bed every night knowing that I was truly loved. I believed I was finally loved, with his whole heart. I believed that our level of commitment to each other, to his daughter and to our future was equal.

I don't want to believe I went complacent, but maybe I did... maybe I got too comfortable with the notion that this was for good and I didn't see what was really happening...

And so I grieve. It was so easy for him to find a new love. So easy. Maybe that's what hurts so much... I was so easy to discard... like yesterday's laundry. Not even a backward glance.

So if that's the case, then how could I have loved so much? How could I have chosen this man over all others to give my heart to? How stupid did I need to be? I feel like part of me died. I just hope I can eventually revive it. I don't ever want to be one of those bitter-hearted battered women.