I was engaged to my ex for a little over two years. Turns out that I stopped being interesting and important to her right around the time I asked her to marry me.
It was before Toliver came along, and Carter was about two years old. She and I had some trouble in the past, and I had been busy trying to make a career for myself. Things were a bit tough, but we managed to get along OK.
Or so I thought.
I didn't find out until after she moved out last year the true extent of things, but there was definitely some behind-the-scenes wheelin' and dealin' going on. She had been playing the field for quite some time. I had my suspicions, but Toliver came along at the end of 2003, and 2004 was spent figuring out how to pay for daycare and getting used to having him around.
Just as things got back to normal, I got private, earth-shattering news near the end of 2004, and it took me about 6 months to get through it. Rather than get her support, she decided it was time for her to move out suddenly, even though she was definitely in the center of it all.
Looking back, I guess that 2002 was probably our best year, before we got engaged. I enjoyed her company and still do miss her, but I've pretty much moved on with life now. Sometimes looking through old pictures, even by accident, causes even the most resolute person to think back for a while. But knowing that I'll be picking the boys up tonight from school helps to ease the pain.
A post from almost a year ago comes to mind. Damn you, Johnny Cash....