feeling nothing, nada, zilch
I can’t quite put my finger on how I feel seeing this picture of the Douche Bag and his poor bride.
At one time, this would have sent daggers through my heart and stomach leaving me feeling broken and sick. But now I feel almost nothing.
I have a dull feeling in the pit of my stomach, but it’s far from the gut-wrenching heartache that used to consume me. And oddly, I don’t feel complete and utter hatred toward him. He royally screwed me over and lied up and down to me, but I’m beginning to feel nothing.
I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to scream. I actually sit here with a half smile on my face because IT’S NOT ME. For the love of all things holy, I am not the one married to this colossal douche bag.
I breathe my enormous sigh of relief.
But that just leaves me feeling pity for this girl. I think that’s what the funny feeling in the pit of my stomach is. I can’t help but feel sorry for her. I don’t know her from Eve, and she may not be as innocent in the whole shit storm as I want and need to believe. So, I give her full benefit of the doubt and instead just feel sorry for her.
Oh well, they are no longer my problem. It took me a month, give or take a few days, to get over it, but I am actually at peace with the situation. I’ve woken from the “coma” (as I like to call it, my self-inflicted food and drink induced coma) and am back. I am running again. I stopped running for 5 weeks during all this. I no longer feel the need to numb the pain/anger with glasses of wine. I want to move on and get way past this. I feel good. I haven’t felt good since July 7th.
Here’s to putting Mr. & Mrs. Douche Bag in my past and moving forward toward a better future. AMEN!