But don’t take our failed relationship as an ending; it was meant to happen because we were divinely placed in each other's lives for specific reasons. Did I hope we would get back together? Hell Yes! But I also knew we couldn’t be together if changes weren’t made. I loved him so much, I put the work into healing myself and find clarity in my own healing, so that I could still love the man I always had, but in a mature, understanding way that respected my boundaries and his as well. Easier said than done.In the midst of our failing relationship, three beautiful children get dropped in our laps. And I mean dropped like, here you go, figure it out, and hope you make it out on the other side, kind of scenario. Nothing triggers healing childhood wounds like trying to raise three neglected, malnourished, and disrespectful children, well, not the youngest, he’s a baby, but the other two were old enough to experience everything under the sun from their situation. This was the ugliest moment of our lives. Every trigger, trauma attachment, you name it, came to join the shit parade and destroy the fantasy that we both tried to create on a broken foundation of trust. The biggest, most unexpected betrayal of my life would become the fuel for my awakening. I had survived so much in my life, but this one moment of complete betrayal changed everything for us.Now, you might say Screw that POS, but I know that was not him who betrayed me, our friendship; it was his shadow self, the ego. He failed to understand that he had nothing, nowhere to go with three children, and I wasn’t going to kick them out, but I wasn’t going to allow the bullshit to continue either. Hearing the man you once called Handsome, refer to you as his roommate, instead of Better Half, was heart-wrenching. How about being treated like a nanny, live-in cook, and caregiver, while he was playing the semi-divorced bachelor man hoe, in an apartment you paid for, because it wasn’t right to ask him to pay your rent, but he did chip in on the bills or food with no hesitation, besides the point. As I grew spiritually and recognized my mistakes, I took full responsibility for my faults and express that verbally, just to be met with defensive mechanisms because his ego and pride were still in control.When the heartbreak and stress become too overwhelming, crazy things begin to happen.Random blackouts started to happen, but it was the symptoms that drew your attention because you had felt these several times before over the last few years, but ignored them because you, yourself, was a single parent, trying to help your lost teenager find themselves after living their life with a selfish, verbally and mentally abusive father, that found no enjoyment in life so they had to shatter the dreams of a growing boy. It takes a toll on your mind, body, and soul, and I was in the middle of the shit storm of the century. Hello hospital, hello medical debt, because as a single mom, I made too much to get state insurance and not enough to buy groceries after our bills were paid. You know what hurts the most? The treatment I received during my medical emergency. I was talked about, mocked, and downplayed like I was faking everything. For the random, fog-hazed moments I remembered, I remember the disheartening, disrespectful treatment from trained medical staff who expect you to trust them with your lives. I had a seizure-like episode in the middle of my kitchen, in front of my teenager and the man I thought cared about me but turns out he was in deeper shit than he was letting on at work. Always said, “what’s hidden in the dark will come to the light eventually.”I was confused, disoriented, couldn’t remember who I was or where I was in between the weird passing out episodes. Three days alone in a hospital gives you plenty to sit with, but one highlight of that stay was when a little cough got my attention while in the bathroom. Opening the door to see my disheveled teenager looking back at me, and then three little faces smiling at me, with a worn and beaten man standing weakly behind them. His eyes spoke louder than his words, but the “I’m so sorry” that cracked out across his sun-chapped lips touched my heart in a way that pained me to express. I wanted to jump into his arms, and hug the man who not only saved me from my previous Hell, but also put me in the hospital, because I knew deep in my heart and soul he never meant to hurt me. My quiet time allowed me to understand my condition and the triggers that caused it. Stress-induced anxiety is such a bitch.But as I stand here, wiping away my own tears silently, I have come to understand that the old versions of myself had to die, for the new version of myself to be born. That’s why this last kiss hurts so much, because when he wakes, he’ll remember nothing of me. I knew his job was dangerous, and so did he, as well as my teenager, but for the two oldest children they thought it was all a game. My health, our relationship and friendship, our dreams, our fears, everything we tried to teach them was overshadowed by the early years of manipulation and neglect. So as I stood there silently wiping my tears, a familiar sensation ran through my body. Looking down at the callused hand gently gripping my left wrist, brushing his toughened thumb over my white quartz beaded bracelet. The bracelet I bought, along with the stuffed unicorn rattle toy when we thought I was pregnant, but I wear it now as a single memory of the possibility. The stagnant hospital air stuck tightly in my throat, staring into those intense, soul-igniting chestnut-ambered eyes. “Who are you?” His air-dried voice husked over his dry, cracked lips. That soft, pink tongue failing at wetting them as it swiped over his cracked skin.“I’ll get the nurse.” My tear-stressed voice halted to a stop with his callused hand gripping my wrist in a silent plea to not leave him alone.“Who are you?” Turning my head to wipe away the tear stuck to my burning cheek.“Nobody.” Turning my gaze back to the crackling chuckle.“Okay, nobody, nice to meet you. Stay.” Stunned into silence, staring at that soft smile and bright ambered eyes blazing with life I had never seen before.Nodding to his request, realizing that our last kiss wasn’t goodbye after all, but our first Hello, our second chance to have our happy life, happy family.“Thank you.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The rest of the story has yet to be written…&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

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The First Hello

EDark

EDark

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