Grief.

 I woke myself up sobbing this morning. It’s been 6 years since I lost the person I thought was my best friend, the person I created three lives with. Most days I don’t even think about that part of my life. But then there are days that follow HARD nights with one of the kids and it triggers something in my subconscious, rips it open and the grief of losing what I thought I had rushes out. I’m allowed to mourn the love I thought I had. I believed him when he told me he’d never hurt me the way my ex had. I believed him when he joked about our “contact.” I never felt I had reason to doubt his faithfulness to me. I’m not completely blind to the traumas I brushed off as “normal” for situations he put us through. But there’s still part of me that remembers the good times, when I thought we were smitten with each other, when he was being such a good dad, when I thought he was doing things for my family out of love for them out of his love for me. 

I’m allowed to grieve. I’m allowed to mourn the husband, father of my children, best friend and partner I thought I had. I just want to be able to trust again, to love and allow others to love me. I want that for me while also enjoying this freedom of not having to worry about being lied to our betrayed. There’s no having my cake and eating it too.