On My Own

I've always had an affinity for Epinine, easily my favorite role from the musical "Les Miserables" (please imagine the appropriate accent). It was always easy to imagine myself as the girl who loved but was overlooked and underestimated in return. I'm not alone, by even the smallest stretch, in feeling like that, at least occasionally, but I have, perhaps, spent more time than was healthy feeling so.

Admittedly, it's one reason why I'm reluctant to include unrequited love in my novels - too sad - and I'll have to get past that. Life has plenty of dark to go around and books without them are unrealistically ideal. But I digress.

My point is that I have just completed what is likely one of the most benign, tidiest, easiest, least nasty divorces in history. Which is a good thing, even if divorce itself isn't. Amazing that such a thing can still be so very sad, the death of a dream, even if the marriage itself wasn't living up to it. However, endings are also harbingers of change. And change is all about new beginnings and new opportunities, even if they aren't readily available.

So, that's what I'll wish for the man who was so recently my husband, that this provides him the opportunity to find what will make him happy.

And I will strive to do the same.