The first day of the rest of my life

I was fine, until I wasn’t.
Sunday was the first time I wasn’t celebrating my anniversary.

Friday I went out with my brother to a local casino, had a fantastic meal,
saw former Cleveland Brown Bernie Kosar while we were eating,
and gambled a bit.

Saturday, I buried myself in yard work all day.

Sunday I was doing fine.
I had looked at Facebook,
saw all the memories from the wedding day,
and I was still okay.
I even posted a funny post about the real reason my wife and I had split up.

And then…

I got a Happy Anniversary! from a friend who didn’t know about the split.
I had to let her know,
which meant I had to explain it all over again to someone else,
which brought it all flooding back.
Again.

I slept for the next 3 hours, because being asleep is my only escape from my brain.
Woke up, helped my sister pick up a chair she HAD to have.
And then buried myself in yard work and clearing out things from the shed I don’t need/want any longer.

I survived.
I didn’t mope around all day.
I didn’t hide from the world. (much)
Next year, it will just be another day.

I’ll be fine.