About 6 months ago the marriage started its death throes. It probably should have never been, but it was, and I was trying. Counseling seemed to make things better in my mind, but to give me a shot of reality, the wife related that she knew it was over for her after the first session when the counselor told us that we couldn't change each other.
I was looking at this one (yes, it's number two) as me choosing to put up with her shit for the rest of my lift. Romantic, huh? But after 7 years of being treated like a second class citizen to her and her daughter, I couldn't take it anymore and started to speak up, the end.
Maybe I'd still be in denial if I hadn't. Who knows? Long story short. I'm moving on. I have to pull my head out of my fourth point of contact and quit drinking beer like water, but I'm moving on. I kicked nicotine in the ass. I can do this.
New house project to keep me busy. Turning it into a paradise for Sebastian. What boy doesn't like the woods, a creek and a tree fort? I still do.
