I just spent the weekend with a BWC member. But rather than weep and wring our hands about our respective betrayals, we laughed – heartily.
We giggled over what we did when we found out (I insisted that my husband put the OW on the phone...and to my utter amazement, she actually took it!); we chuckled over how delighted we were – in the midst of heartbreak – to step on the scales and discover that, while our lives might feel shattered, we were really wonderfully skinny.
In short, we were able to reflect on the most painful chapter of our lives...and, with the benefit of time, recognize that while it sucked...we weren't on that page anymore. Hallelujah.
Sadly, when your heart is breaking, it's almost impossible to believe it will ever feel whole again. And when those around you suggest that time will heal, you might nod...but inside you think they can't possibly know how all-consuming your pain is. Time, for me, became a bitter four-letter word.
My own pain grew to eclipse all else, including the love of my three children. I wanted desperately to escape it, desperately enough to wish I could die. Never have I been so low.
Which is why sharing some laughs three years later with a good friend who has also experienced betrayal is as surprising as it is healing.
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