Ugh, the layers, the layers! I've gotten below the shame now and, surprise, surprise, I'm ashamed to admit what I've found. But for the sake of non-avoidance, I will bare my soul to you, good and loyal readers. What lies below is this humiliating truth: If A~ were to want me back, I would be so glad.
I deserve better than the relationship we had, and I would never settle for it again, but the fact remains, I wish he still wanted me. I wish the choice were mine. Don't get me wrong, I want the divorce. But I still fantasize that once we're fully separate, his relationship with K~ will quickly fall apart, he'll realize what an idiot he's been, and suddenly not only want to do the work it would take to be worthy of me, but be capable of it. Of course I, so much stronger and wiser, would accept nothing less. In the end, we'd live happily ever after. So much more happily than we'd ever have been if this hadn't happened.
I know, I know, believe me, I know what you're thinking. I know already. That's what makes this so embarrassing.
To those of you readers who are wondering, yes, I will eventually shut up about all this divorce stuff and get back to the meat and potatoes of fertility and miscarriage and abortion and babies (actual newborn infants, I mean, not baby ex-husbands). I've got a lot of new thoughts on those subjects too, believe you me. But for today, please indulge my obsession. And in the meantime, check out the archives. And don't hesitate to post comments to old entries. I read those too.