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Sometimes I think of divorce as a dance you do alone and to broken music. Funny, yesterday came and went and I didn’t even think of “it”. I’ve been divorced for one year now. Maybe that’s how it should be. All put behind me. Mostly forgotten about.

I have to admit I was tempted to chill a bottle of champagne for tonight. Actually have one in the closet for that purpose (purchased 4 years ago in anticipation). But that seems a waste of good champagne. The experience was not a happy thing, it was ugly and nasty.

For the last six years, I have not spoken to the person I was married to. Not a word. Main reason? He no longer was the same person I married…his body housed a soul I did not know. Isn’t that weird?

Really don’t want to commemorate something that hurt so much. We don’t celebrate getting sick or in a car accident do we? So why should I celebrate this loss. Another path has my attention now and I don’t know where it will lead.

So far in my life the saying “when one door closes, another opens” has been true. Just Googled that and found that it’s from Alexander Graham Bell! The saying above ends in “but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.”

Perhaps I should buy myself a bouquet of flowers when I’m out doing errands tomorrow to congratulate myself for surviving a five year long divorce and coming out the other side in one piece…more or less.

Must say I’m more at peace now, even if my financial situation is less than perfect. Frankly, the gift of harmony did not come cheaply. But not living waiting for the next shoe to fall is worth it.

Sure, there still are scabs of pain and anger here and there but I think that’s understandable given the whole picture. The last year has been all about healing and finding the person I lost quite a while ago. That’s a good thing. You know you’re getting better when what hurt so much becomes more of an annoyance than a pain.

So I consider having remembered June 10 a day late a sort of pesky thought that will get under my skin less and less as time goes on. And when I feel anger poking at me in some memory, I remember to pause and repeat “what goes around comes around”. Over time I’ve found, it’s a little truth that no one escapes.

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