During the first year of my second singlehood, many well-meaning friends tried to encourage me by describing how strong I was for surviving this storm. Usually I just accepted the comment as it was intended, but inside I had a comeback.
What choice did I have? Was just moving and breathing the same as being strong? I hadn't wanted to be strong in this way. I was barely hanging on to functionality. My parental duties kept me moving, even if it was haltingly.
Now that more time has passed, people say that less often. Most days now I do feel stronger than when I was married. I know all the right things to say to reassure those concerned that I am fine. I emphasize all the reasons I'm glad to be single. Single is preferable to a bad marriage to be sure. Mostly I believe myself.
So people think I'm strong. But many days, more often many nights, I don't feel strong at all. I wish my life had gone along with my hopes and plans. Sometimes I wish it were all different.
Do you know what I mean?
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