He hurt me. I’ve been hurt before, but this is different. And I’m angry. Angry at myself for allowing myself to be hurt. Angry because I put myself in a position where I could be hurt. Angry. At myself. At him. Just angry.
It was stupid. Selfish. Immaturity. We are adults, too old for the bs, too old for games, too old for anything other than straight to the point living life. And it happened anyway. I blame him, but I blame myself too. I played a part. But that does not excuse him for the actions he took, the decisions he made. There is no excuse. Period.
But I’m angry. Angry that I have to pick up the pieces. I have to hold everything together. I have to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving, regardless if I’m hurting, regardless if I’m sad, regardless if I’m confused, and regardless if I’m angry. Life goes on. Bills still need to be paid. Business continues. And so must I. Regardless of how I’m feeling inside.
This isn’t just my story. This is your story, just as you are reading it, it is yours. Your pain. Your experience. Your anger. This is life.
God bless, and be blessed.