It was good to be with friendly faces but I was wary of the impending confrontation that I knew was looming in front of me.
I was screaming vulgar, violent words that no one could hear as I pushed the print button, time and time again.
I knew that the loving energy of God worked in mysterious ways and we were learning how to love despite the tremendous pain.
I went into hyper-control mode – attempting to manage some degree of emotional safety.
My knowledge was confirmed with his answer to my single question and the validity of it filtered into my body one cell at a time.
Everything except his face blurred out of focus and I concentrated on the sound of his voice as he hesitated and then said ...
There was a resurgence in our commitment to one another and in our desire to be together.
We talk about reconciliation and how things would need to be different. I realize that my children are worth fighting for.
Does she have any idea of what I was going through? Isn’t there some kind of honor code that women are supposed to adhere to? Or friends at least?