Unsatisfied

I'm not sure if I'm ever going to be satisfied with my life...

I have a very bad, and possibly creepy, habit  of looking at pictures of other peoples lives and being sick to death that my life didn't turn out that way...and the even more strange, and possibly even creepier, thing is that I don't web-stalk people I know, it is always someone that someone else knows...someone I've heard of but, never met.

Most recently it is an old girlfriend of my ex-husband. And when I say old girlfriend, I mean high school. I've never met this woman in my life. Although, I know he used to talk to her when we were together and still might.

But, her pictures show a beautiful woman, beautiful kids, beautiful husband. A beautiful life.

That's the illusion though, isn't it? No one takes pictures of the ugly moments in life. No one takes a picture in the middle of an argument, a tantrum, no one wants to show the world a bruise blossomed in anger or the shards of a broken heart.

It's been over a year and I'm still struggling with the idea, the fact, the absolute truth that my life will never look the way I thought it would. The absurd false moments that show me and him, side by side, happy as happy could be...I don't get any more of those.

And God help me, I want them. The honest truth is that, despite what I know logically, I ache for him...still. Always.

Berating myself about this is pointless. I've lost the battle. I lost it a long time ago. And while I am certain that any fake-happy-quick-take-a-picture-of-this moments are far behind us, I cannot stop the tears that well up or the dull pounding in my ears or the quiver of my heart, still so unbelievably broken that it lies in a shapeless heap inside my chest.

I gave him my soul. And while I continue to hear the endless mantra of "time heals all wounds" I know deep inside that plenty of time has passed. I know now that it will always be his. I'll never recover it. At least not enough to want to freeze moments in time and show them to the world. Any pictures of my future will never resemble the past I so desperately wish I could reclaim.

And so, I will continue to look at other peoples lives. I will continue to mourn what I will never have, what I never had.

And I will continue to miss him. Every. Single. Day.