Sometimes I get nostalgic for the old days on the mountain top. I even get sentimental about my ex-husband. The photo here is our driveway going down the mountain and away from our house. It’s symbolic for me. I drove down it for the last time in early April, 2008, when it looked exactly like this picture, all green and beautiful. And I did see it clearly that day because I wasn’t crying. I had used up all my tears for the time being. I found some more later and still do on rare occasions.
Whenever I get feelings of wistfulness about my broken marriage and start to think I still miss D, I try to remind myself of that last drive down and how I was feeling hopeful about a new life. And how I have now, in fact, established a new, fulfilling life with old friends and new. But most of all I remind myself of what it was like to live with D those last years–his secrets, his lies, his sneaky phone calls to his “friend” after I went to bed. Oh, and I mustn’t forget the strange phone calls I got from people up in Virginia who felt compelled to let me know what was going on up there without actually coming right out and telling me. I mean, who calls at midnight and asks if my husband is home and do I know where he is. By then I already knew what my husband was up to and I said, “No, I don’t know where he is but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s probably in Virginia with his other woman.” That got rid of my mysterious caller. And I have to admit that it’s kinda funny now. The best I can tell, those two created quite a scandal in that little town and it still interests me that so many people wanted to talk to me about it. Some called me and yes, I made a few calls of my own. They all confirmed for me the extent of D’s deception and I must never forget that. I can forgive now but it would not be in my best interest to forget.