Honestly.

Honestly, I believe…

…that if you can dish it out, but not take it, you should stop reading here, because

…I am about to piss off a whole bunch of people.

…that anyone who defines themself and their happiness upon having a significant other is destined to a life alone and unhappy.

…that when someone says “I want your opinion” that they really want it, and to turn around and say “I never said that” because they don’t like what they heard is childish to the nth degree.

…that children’s safety came first. Always.

…that anyone who puts themselves before their children’s safety just to have a man is pathetic and underserving.

…that people make mistakes, but

…that the key to making mistakes is learing from them, not repeating them ad nauseum.

…that no one has the right to tell me they miss my husband more then I do.
…That they knew him better, loved him more, hurt more without him.
…That I cannot speak of him, and my loss, and fight through my feelings.
…That I don’t have the right to force my loss, my lonliness, my pain into the open.
…That I don’t have the right to say ‘You don’t understand, and you won’t.’ because they don’t, and they won’t, until they go through the same thing.
…That I am to downplay my loss because they hurt too. I’m sorry. he was MY husband, he was the father of MY children, he was MY soulmate and the man I chose to spend the rest of my life with. He was ‘a’ friend of yours. One that you never listened too anyway, and one that would be saying the exact same things I said for the exact same reasons, except that he’d have that fucker at the wrong end of a rifle to get his point across.

…that you can hurt, but not at my expense.

…that Kevin was a good man. He never once laid a hand on my kids, and I never once feared for their safety while they were in his care, despite his own upbringing. He loved them, and me, more then his own life. If I ever, even once, thought otherwise I would have left.

…that Kevin and I squabbled, a lot. Any longtime readers know that he drove me to distraction, much as I did him. But in the end, we always came out together, solid, and strong. We only had two knock down drag out fights, in fifteen years. I bitched about him. He bitched about me. We called each other “asshole” and “bitch” and it was a term of endearment. No one can take that from me. It is not because he is dead that I ‘ignore’ all the times he drove me batshit. I don’t ignore it. I just choose to remember all the positives first. We were not perfect, but we were solid for fifteen years, which is more then most people can say. More then you can say. We were happy. We drove each other insane, and we were happy.

…that because I chose to learn to be solid and strong in and of myself, that my happiness and strength never depended on having a man, I am going to be fine. I still ache, I still break down, but I am still strong and independant. I depended on Kevin because I could. I don’t need a relationship to be happy. No one does.

…that if you cannot learn to be happy by yourself, you will never, ever, ever be happy with anyone else.

…that if any of this hits home, it’s because you needed it, but

…you won’t believe it, you won’t take it as it was intended, and you’ll still lay the blame at everyone else’s feet for it.

…that unlimited support is a myth.

…that tough love is something necessary and needed.

…that a friend who pats your back and kisses your ass and keeps silent when you fubar is no friend at all.

…that the time for coddling is over.

…that when you realize it all, I’ll still be here, but

…that does not mean I will condone your actions. Now, or ever.

…that you made your bed, and I won’t be held responsible for your fuckups. Not by you, not by anyone.

…that I pissed you off, and

…that I’m glad.