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In life we get these moments that string together and make us who we are. That’s what life is, a big run on sentence of moments. What’s strange about going through a divorce, is losing all of the good moments. Because obviously the relationship had them, right? I mean you did fall in love with each other. Back before you were blocking each other’s phone numbers and deleting their naked pics out of your phone. Right? Did you dream that? Moments snuggled up in the morning, before the kids were awake, whispering silly things to each other. GONE. Not just the moment, but THAT person is gone.  It’s like the person you knew died, except you get to fucking fight with the ghost of them! And fault, ha! Fault is such an easy thing to assign. Truth is, it’s my fault. It’s his fault. It’s OUR fault. It was never one moment that led to the fall of Rome. It obviously wasn’t the good moments that led us down this road. It was the moments we walked our own roads instead of walking home, together. One team. Without being united, we stood as an easy target. Now I hear the hatred in every thing you say. It pierces me to know I made decisions that make you speak to me this way. But you’ve always spoken this way to me when you were angry, the only thing new is the hate. And I feel it. It cuts me. It’s doing what you want it to. But not for the same reasons. I used to hate knowing you were angry at me, but now I just hate that we hurt each other. I hate that you think you never mattered to me. I hope that subsides over time and you remember those mornings. Because I don’t want to feel like I wasted ten years of my life in something that ended in hatred. I want to learn from our mistakes. I want to make sure I water and feed the trust moving forward. I want to learn from the mean words that floated between us, because you really can’t take them back. I don’t want to spend another night in a panic attack on the bathroom floor because I said the wrong thing and you turned your phone off. You’re an addiction I can’t feed, it’s no good for me. I read your words again, I can tell I hurt you, because you’re slashing. I know you. I had to fly from here. I read your words. I have to delete them all. I can’t let them be all over my week anymore. I’m standing now. I can do this. 

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