I don't regret my decision to break-up with my fiance. For where we were at and what was going on in our lives, it was the right thing to do. I know that now...but it's still hard and, in spite of everything, I still miss him. So much.
I wish I could hate him, that I could rant, rave, and curse him from here to Timbucktu.
All I can manage is a bitter, nostalgic sigh.
He's changing...for the better...and I am instensely jealous and heartbroken by it, as petty as that sounds.
He's found a church and finally started attending on a regular basis - all on his own.
He's involved with the music ministry at his church.
He's eating healthy, working out, and trying to take care of himself.
He's learning how to manage his money.
He's got a chance to - if it pans out - get out of the dead end job he's been stuck in and pursue something that makes him happy.
....all of which I begged him to do when we were still together. For months, I begged. Months. Now, when it's too late, he finally acts on these things.
I am happy for him. I truly am. It brings me great joy to know that something good has come out of this, that - despite all the heartache - his life is changing for the better, that he is finally becoming the person that God meant for him to be.
It just breaks my heart that it's all happening now that I'm gone.
Why? Why couldn't it have happened when we were together? Why couldn't he realize the things his realizing now when I begged him to? Why does he get to be a good person now that he's away from me?
At the risk of sounding like a petulent two-year old, it's not fair.
It's good, I'm happy for him, but it simply isn't fair.
And it hurts.
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