Recently, I’ve had twinges of pain about some of the hurtful things my ex did during our marriage. He was not a good husband. I noticed it the other day when I was reliving a particularly awful time and felt my eyes get teary. It’s easier just to be mad.
Last night, I finally watched the Sex and the City movie that I missed in the theaters. I sobbed through most of it, and I went to bed feeling completely broken and depressed. Yes, it was a beautiful story about love and forgiveness, supporting the idealistic philosophy I learned as a child. But my old wounds came to life again.
He didn’t want or need my forgiveness. He lives in a different kind of world that I just don’t understand.
My fairy tale that’s been shattered is not the romantic Cinderella story, it’s the story that Good always wins over Evil and that Justice prevails. It’s the lies I’ve been fed that every human being is inherently decent, and that we only act out because of our own hurts… tall tales about turning the other cheek, even while someone is choking your life from you… the fantasy that a nasty toad might really be a prince, or that Beauty and the Beast can make a go of it.
No, I don’t buy it anymore.
And losing that Fairy Tale is the saddest thing of all for me.