She was learning who she was. She didn’t need vices or outside influence anymore. Her heart was finally speaking to her, after years of being broken by my PTSD. I’ve been waiting so long for this moment.
She’s spent the years after our divorce floating aimlessly through life. She had no direction or drive. Gravity was nonexistent. She made some acquaintances that she thought she could call friends, but only one or two of those new friends stuck around. The friends she had before remained, and always will. They know the way she used to be. I get to keep the perfect her to myself.
After a few hard life lessons, she did some soul-searching. My soulmate was trying to find her soul again. I’ve seen glimpses of her perfect self over the years, but they fragmented when I would relapse, or simply life came down on us like the wrath of God.
Alas, history repeats itself. Her job got the best of her last night, and she’s back to her cold, take-no-prisoners self. I should have embraced her before she left for work last night. It’s another regret I can add to the books.
I’m still trying to figure out why these things keep happening. We’ve both tried time and time again since the divorce. She’s given up so many times. Life has taken her willpower.
I’ll keep trying forever. Life will literally have to kill me to make me stop loving her. I’m afraid at this rate, it might happen sooner than later.