I’ve been through a lot of partings in my life one way and
another. Some have been acrimonious, some indifferent, some unavoidable, and a
few have been bravely accepting of the fact that the rightness of the
separation outweighed the instinctive desire to cling.
I think the acrimonious ones are the easiest. Anger
vindicates the process. It negates the sense of loss, albeit it temporarily,
and provides welcome ballast in that gaping, empty hold that now echoes only
one set of footsteps.
Unfortunately, I’m cursed with the need to respond honestly.
If I feel angry, I’ll respond angrily; if I don’t, I can’t invent it. Maybe
that’s best for everybody in the long run, and being true to yourself is always
right, isn’t it?
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