Going through my old Facebook albums tonight (since, oh, I dunno, do I really need one THOUSAND pictures on Facebook?!), I came across a picture. From about a week before my divorce began. And I stopped. Froze. Looking at that picture. That day. It was a friend’s wedding day…my best friend from kindergarten. I distinctly remember it. It was an off day. My ex husband was off. He was distant. We went to the wedding. He texted the entire time before the ceremony started. We didn’t even stay for the reception. It was a weird day.
That day, I had no idea what I was in for, less than a week or so later.
Looking at my face, my smile, in that picture. It looked so innocent. But looking deep into my eyes, I want to cry for her…the me I was then, and warn her. No, I don’t want to warn her. I want to congratulate her on what she’s become today. But I can’t. Because she hasn’t gone through it yet.
She becomes a shell of herself.
Until she cannot cry any more.
She seeks solace in friends, family, and ultimately, herself. And this community of beautiful people that have all struggled before. The thread that unites her – us – together. She moves on. She moves up. She moves into her own. She becomes…me. Today.
It’s haunting to see the me I was then. I have tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. But soon, she will be gone.
Replaced by love. family, friends, and the most beautiful niece on the planet.
…who needs one thousand pictures on Facebook anyway?