I wrote about heartbreak last month. I wrote about how it feels to be sad and depressed and lonely and going through the motions.
But tonight I'm angry. I've had a few days like this. I even had one day of full on rage in a way that I didn't even recognize myself. Tonight isn't that kind of anger. It's a disappointed anger. It's the kind of anger you hated the most from your mother. Its simmering deep and bringing tears to the front of my eyes without spilling over. It's boiling in my heart and gritting in my teeth. It's letting go while still desperately wishing I was holding on. It's anger and it hurts and this is such a broken, broken world we live in where the only person I can trust with my heart at all is Jesus.
And I'm angry. I am angry because I believed in this love, only for it to be unceremoniously, slowly slipped away from me without me even noticing.
I believed him.
I believed his promises.
I believed that the rest of my life would be spent happy and content in Small Town.
I believed that we would raise the Baby, and several more babies, in that house, on those ten acres, with the man I believed was the man of my dreams.
I believed that one day I would post engagement pictures and wedding pictures and you would all help me find the perfect balance between city girl modern and country barn chic.
I believed we were making traditions and setting habits that would carry us through the next 70 years of our life.
I believed it all.
And mostly, I never even took a second to believe that we'd ever be anything less than a happy family for the rest of my life.
It isn't fair, internet blogging world friends of mine.It isn't fair.