I commented on my daughter’s blog, using this one: her father reads there and will follow back. I had hoped he had lost interest in trailing me around so maybe he won’t but it is very human nature to see what people are saying about you and he might think I still write about him.
Truth be told, I don’t very much. There is a fair bit of comparison these days (with my current husband and my new incredibly happy marriage) but it is more interior. He was so much part of my life for so long and my feelings went through so many different changes over the years: misery, disappointment, fear, pain, rage, conciliation, anger. I wrote about them all and he tracked me from blog site to blog site, try as I might to have a place to write that was nothing to do with him.
I don’t suppose it matters any more. It certainly doesn’t matter to me but if he goes back and reads all of the entries here, he is bound to find something to object to. My feelings these days have mellowed to a lukewarm civility. I sort of hope that his life works out for him but I don’t care that much if it doesn’t. I spent a very long time trying to be friends with him, if only for our daughters’ sakes, but it took me years to realise that he was only interested in asserting some sort of dominance over me and that he genuinely doesn’t like me enough as a person to want to be friends with me. And that’s ok.
Occasionally something he has done pricks me enough to cause me to vent but mostly it is to my dearest, rational husband who comments in the logical clear way that only he can: and I’m quickly defused. Such times get less and less and are interspersed with feeling sorry for him. I have so much more than him in my life, even though it isn’t material stuff. Living better is truly the best resolution.