Indian Giving

Love may make the world go round, but it certainly doesn't make you less bitter. Ok, maybe a little less bitter.

I guess maybe I hold a grudge. But who doesn't? I know people who have been divorced for decades and they're still filled with anomosity when it comes to the circumstances of their split. And sadly, I'm no different. While I'm positive that my divorce was the healthiest thing for all parties involved -- i.e. me, myself and I -- I'm still mad overall.

Ironically, my anger isn't directed toward J-Fed, at least not most days. I supposed this is somewhat of a problem. The person who I am still highly pissed at is T.W. (The Woman formerly known as The Other Woman formerly known as my friend) I guess I'll never know for certain exactly what was going down -- or getting down -- between J-Fed and T.W. when we were married. But it would take an idiot not to read between the lines at this point.

To this day, J-Fed still denies that there is anything going on between the two of them. "It's not like that," he'll tell me. For awhile I actually believed him. Of course, I also believed in Santa, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny well into high school. So I suppose it's a miracle that I didn't hold onto the "J-Fed's Not Shagging T.W." dream forever. Some might say I should have woken up and smelled the coffee a long time ago. However, when something smells like shit, you often turn your nose the other way and hold your breath simply in the name of self-preservation... and not wanting to heave all over the place, which is exactly what I did.

These days, I don't think of T.W. often, namely because I no longer live two doors down from her. I'm miles and miles away from her "love" shack. I'm in a a far better place. I don't have to watch her drive in and out of the neighborhood. I no longer have to see her zoom out of her driveway and head over to J-Fed land. In my new home, I can pretend like the sow never existed. I like it like that.