This blog will be extremely short. I’m sitting in a room at a local Red Roof Inn. My wedding band is off my finger. The chances of it going back on are about the same as being struck by lightening. I’m sitting here both grieving my loss and wondering how the hell I’m going to get back on my feet with the limited savings I have.
I’ve been married nearly three years. This was my second marriage.
Last night, so I wouldn’t get stuck inside my head, I went out with friends. But they were in a spirited and playful mood and I couldn’t connect. As the evening wore on, my mood started heading south. Thankfully, I managed to sleep for about 11 hours when I got back to my room.
I’ve got two immediate concerns now: Finding a more permanent place to stay and somehow working through my anger and depression so I come out in one piece. This is survival mode, pure and simple. Today I took a “John” day, doing nothing, conserving my resources, like an animal crawling back to its cave and licking its wounds.
In a few hours I will crawl out of my cave to meet a friend for dinner. Then, tomorrow, I need to do some serious looking for a place to stay.
Last month, my book came out. It was the culmination of seven years work. The book is selling well. This should be a time of celebration for me. Instead, I feel as if my heart were ripped out of me.
If this is what life is all about, then … No, I better not go there.
Published On: November 26, 2006
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