Every year for the past twelve years - I wait. I wait for November to come around. The 'wedding' anniversary. Then I wait again. I wait for March to come around. The 'it's over' telephone call anniversary. But between November and March I'm hit with December, January and February. It will occur to me out of the clear blue, 'hey, wait a minute - it's February, he's talking to her. January. 'Oh yeah, they're already together'. December. Ouch. How much longer before My November? I remember September, August, July. The empty house. Surely he brought her there. Twice I was leveled to my core being in there. My soul knew. Still, I hold onto November, because it's mine. Although, I'm pretty sure he squandered that day too. Then, I wait. For the memory to pass. For the air to come back to me. Usually it does. Sometimes, the recalling forces the realization that the deceit went way beyond that first November, twelve years back. Waiting.
Welcome to A Heart Inspired. Join me as I share and visit some places in my heart ~ with honesty, fairness and poeticism ~ My family's album, in words. Sometimes sweet ~ sometimes not. But always, always honest.