Sitting in the Library
I hate this. I'm sitting in the library watching the seconds tick away. I'm supposed to be writing a chapter for my book about my ex-husband. Groan. I am writing the chapter that introduces him as a person - before things were terrible. Before he left. When I was really happy. And that's some of my problem - I was never truly UN-happy. At least I didn't think I was unhappy. Maybe I was too sick to pay attention to my marriage, but I didn't think it was so bad until Dan announced he was leaving me. In retrospect, of course, there were things that were terrible, and I'm doing much better now. I think sometimes I'm still stunned that all this happened, that this is my life. Today I ran up the stairs and thought, "Shit. I have different lungs in me." Sometimes, I almost forget. Today my writing coach said to me, "W ell, cripes. You just had your lungs torn out. Then your heart was torn out as well." And it's