In a way, I am going through it right now. My first wife and I often dreamed of travelling the world together. She left me for another man and now they’re doing exactly that — travelling the world. Meanwhile, I am back home raising the daughters we had together, by myself.
We had one magical thirty day vacation together before the arrival of our first child — and we always told each other, we’d do it again. Visit all those places. It was a dream we shared.
Now she’s visiting those places with another man. It’s posted to social media, too. I see her and this new man, sitting in chairs we used to sit in, in the house of her parents or grandparents. Driving down roads we used to drive down.
And I wonder, if it means to him, what it meant to me… and I wonder, if she is sad, too. If she ever thinks of me, walking down that beach where we once faced the sunset together. Where we conceived our first daughter, underneath the starry night, in a little wooden hut besides palm trees, waving in a lazy tropical breeze… what makes me the saddest is this feeling that she might not even remember. That she might not even think of me, in those places. Those places I could never visit without thinking of her. That I’ve been erased, replaced, just like that. With the snap of a finger. And now all that magic, all those memories, are relived with another man.
Doesn’t help that I just broke up with another girlfriend, in the beginning of December. Entering the year 2025 empty-handed is rough. Being reminded of just how empty-handed I am, well, that’s even rougher… these days with social media it’s as if you’re a fly on everyone’s wall, whether you like it or not. And out of morbid curiosity, or perhaps a desire to torture myself, I keep watching. And yes, it’s excruciating.
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