Was this where it was going to end up anyway?

With the recent passing away of my husband, I have found myself filled with conflicting emotions that I didn't know existed. A couple of years ago, the kids and I had to walk away from him. It was the hardest thing that I have ever done to that point. I implemented no contact rule at the beginning because as our life proved, we would separate and come back together only to do the same routine again later on. This time was a little bit different as he had another supply source. She gave him the attention that he craved and the thoughts of this hurt as much as not having him. I was in turmoil. As the days passed, slowly I became stronger and found that my now peaceful life was much nicer than the ups and downs of the other life. In some ways, I felt that I missed the highs and the lows of our dysfunctional relationship.

Now that he is really gone, there will never be that possibility that he will come back to me. I will never hear the words from him that he appreciated all that I did to help build him up and take care of him. He will never tell our children that they were most important to him. There is no doubt that he loved us all. But I found many years ago that he could never love me in the way that I needed or even in the way that I loved him. I still remember our wedding as though it was yesterday. I remember the feelings I had and the belief that I was marrying my partner for the rest of my life. This was truly the man that I was going to spend my life with and one day we will sit out on the front porch and rock our grandchildren on our laps and talk about the good ole days.

With him REALLY gone, I have no more dreams that one day he will come to his senses and we will have a normal life together. Normal? I had no idea really what normal was. How could I know when all I have experienced my entire life was dysfunction. I am working through my own thoughts and pains to find my own balance and strength. I didn't expect this ending to our life together, but perhaps as I go through the many journals that I have held so close to me through the years, I will find an answer. I think that I know that it never was me. That nothing I could have done would change the outcome. Sometimes we have to accept the inevitable, the truth that we don't want to hear. I tried to rewrite his story, but with every stroke of my pen, the outcome came back to where it is today. Was this always where it was going to end?