Two Short Years

Wow. So yesterday was the two year anniversary of my divorce.
It's so hard to believe that it's been two years.
So hard to believe that time can fly that quickly.
Here I sit, two years later - driving the same car, working the same job, living in the same house, as I did two years ago.
And yet everything's so different.

I don't even know the person that I was then. I was the girl who put on a happy face for the world and was dying on the inside. You wouldn't have known it. You would have just seen the smile. But I knew it. And I felt like such a fraud then.

I'm not sorry that I married him. We grew up together essentially. I was 19 when I met him. I was 29 when I divorced him. He taught me how to be strong. How to be tough. How to roll with the punches that life throws at you. How to love. How to hate. And finally, how to let go.

Don't get me wrong - he's not a bad person. It's just the combination of US that was bad. I brought out the worst in him more often than I brought out the best. I wasn't faultless in that. I can be so frustrating at times. I know that.

There are times that I wonder how he's doing. Hoping that he's found true happiness. Hoping that he's doing well. Hoping that he can, at some point, forgive me for my fault in our problems. And hoping that he knows that I've forgiven him.

It is amazing. Time really does heal all wounds, doesn't it?