Loss, Part One

I’m not quite sure when it happened exactly, but it did.  At some point, emptiness replaced contentment.  Anger replaced appreciation.  Desperation replaced fear.  Purposeful, joyous movements became perfunctory…curt…nonexistent.  Things that were comfortable became ill-fitting. The remote control became a WMD, when it used to be a shot of novocaine.  I couldn’t be comfortably numb any longer.

Where once I found so much fulfillment, I struggled to salvage a glimmer of hope, struggled to ignore my instincts that there was no hope left, but in the end my instincts won out. My marriage wasn’t salvageable, it was lost.

By Joy

I'm 42, a remarried mom of an 8 year old girl and a toddler son, a teacher, and a writer. People tell me I tend to be brutally honest and ...tell it like it is, so I had hoped to use this outlet to keep me sane while I got used to my new life as a stay-at-home Mom back when I was home with my daughter....it worked. And it's been therapeutic through the end of a marriage and the emergence of me...

8 comments

  1. Sad…but what a great writer you are! It’s a gift. Every time I read something you write I’m proud of you 😊

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