As I set out to start this week, I felt as though I had nothing of value to contribute this time. I wondered how could it be that after three weekly posts is it possible that I’m all tapped out?

Well, things do have a way of working out and here we are. This week seemed to focus on wrongdoing and how I could/should approach the issue and the wrongdoer. Without trying to go into too much detail, someone in my recent past has lied to me, and I have discovered proof, tangible proof, that this person has been untrue. I think I knew. No…I did know. I just didn’t want to believe it. I think in my mind I had glazed over all the signs. I chose not to believe that he could be anything less than perfect.

He’s human. He is less than perfect.

But now, I have actual proof that the things I didn’t want to believe are true. So what to do?  I could call him out on it. I could be aggressive. I could yell and scream.  Would it get my point across? No, likely not.

So I sat and let the anger flow through me. I imagined doing all those things. Then more anger flowed. I was shaking mad, and I could feel hate starting to tug at the seams of my heart. I resented that feeling. I do not want to hate him. I do not want to hate anyone really. But I do feel hurt and a little more broken knowing the truth.

It’s all ok. Now it will allow me to process the information and heal.

I can’t forget what has happened. I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I need to learn this lesson and I need to grow from it. Where the challenge lies now is how do I move past this to get to a point where I will be capable of trusting another completely?  This was the one person I completely let my guard down with. The one and only person I allowed to know the real me.  Even my soon to be exhusband did not truly know who I was because I became who he expected and wanted me to be while the real me was hidden under so many layers of excuses and protective barriers. This man.  This man. He was my Prince Charming. Or so I thought. It’s been over for some time now I suppose. I continued to cling on to hope that maybe maybe he would return. And he did, sort of. He’s no Prince Charming though. He’s the frog who promises to become the prince if only I would kiss him, except he was still just the frog no matter how many kisses I gave.

So now that I know all of this not just with my head, but also in my heart and in my soul, what do I do with it all?  Of course, I need to, and  want to forgive, what next?


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