Before I met Matt, I was convinced I was destined to be alone - never to find the right man for me because I was pretty sure he didn't exist. I had resigned myself to that, and because it was so important to me to have children someday, I planned to either get artificially inseminated by the time I was 35, or find some cute guy with good genetics as a "donor."
I'm 35. I got my beautiful children, and here I am alone. Is this my destiny? To be without a man in my life? It took me 25 years to meet Matt. I was so thankful that I didn't have to be lonely anymore. So thankful I didn't have to be in the hellish dating scene ever again. So thankful I had such a good man to raise my children with, and to grow old with.
I know I shouldn't try to make sense of anything that's happened in the past four months, but I can't help but go there in my head. The only thing that makes sense, is that I'm glad I loved the way I did, and was loved the way I was. Except, the deeper the love, the deeper the pain. I guess I should consider myself lucky to be in such agony, huh? If I knew the outcome would be the same, I'd have still married Matt. I'd have done all of it all over again.
Even though I knew Jeff for six years, I'm glad I got to know him better the past six months so that I could really appreciate the person he was. I wouldn't have learned half of the great things about him otherwise. I probably wouldn't feel the void as much as I do. Should I be thankful for that, too?
Part of me thinks that as blessed as I have been with love, I don't know if I want to set myself up for more pain in the long run. I don't know if I could survive it. There are lots of people out there that never get to experience in a lifetime the kind of love that Matt and I had in our ten short years together. That ten years might have to last me a lifetime.