I found out last night that my ex-husband’s grandmother died over the weekend. She was a wonderful woman who was always very kind to me, even when things were more strained with the rest of his family.
When things ended with my ex, it all moved so quickly that I never had a chance to say goodbye to his family – I wasn’t sure if they even wanted to hear from me, and I was so fucked up that I couldn’t face any more hurt or anger – and I know I never gave them the chance to be anything else, though they were good and kind and loving to me throughout our relationship.
And this is what I hate about relationships that end – I never had a chance to say goodbye, and now I never will, and I had to wait to find out about her death until my parents happened to see the obituary. Major things will happen in the lives of these people who were my family for six years, and I will never know. Maybe that’s a selfish thing to feel. I don’t know. I guess it’s never really over.