It’s Not What You Think.

“Divorce” makes me cringe; it’s a word I have to duck under, turn from. Shame? Revulsion? It doesn’t matter if half the world gets divorced. Half of those in my world did not, only I did. It was a very lonely loathsome thing. A failure. It was not wanted but a surrender of sorts, relinquishing hope, admitting that yes my marriage was hopeless. Beyond that, the beautiful charming and talented young woman I once was became lost there in the dregs of the hopeless marriage.  In biding time or gathering courage, I of course aged without realization and certainly not with consent: skin like paper, hair with less sheen, thin but not hot. Ah I feel young but I am older even if not quite old.  sigh.

I suppose, looking on the bright side, let me reiterate: Ah, I feel young!

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