Looking at Marriage in a Glass Half-full/Half-empty Way
A Minute to Myself (73)

Another Saturday Morning at the Coffee Shop

This morning, while reading far too much election-related material and attempting to do some writing in between commenting on new and “old” revelations at my favorite café, my friend, who is separated from the virtual twin of my ex-husband, came in. She was full of more heart-wrenching drama of the tribulations of what her nasty husband is doing to her and her daughters. Tears were barely stopped by coffee shop napkins; my goodness, how do our lives devolve to such a state that in our forties we wonder, we honestly wonder, how life could have gotten so bitter. And we wonder, too, if it will get better.

And thanks to comments from readers of this blog, I was able to transmit some of your encouraging comments to her. I was your vessel to tell her: yes, it will get better; yes, this will end; yes, you are loved by your friends; and, yes, you deserve better. I thank you for making me believe that for myself, and for her, and for all of the women who are drowning in tears wrought by their once-loved ones—listen, listen to your friends and let their words drown out those spewing from the evil man in your life.

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Comments

April

I'm glad that we're a source of comfort for both you and your friend. My best wishes to you both.

Laura of Rebellious Thoughts of a Woman

I ran into someone today who is getting the husband's side. It is ugly--ugly. I wish their madness would stop. I wish that when we are divorcing we could each remember, even faintly, that there was a reason we once wed and use that to help us end it civilly, for all of our sakes.

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