Is it wrong that I’m not more torn up about this divorce? I feel like I should be shattered into a million pieces but I’m not. I don’t know if it’s because of everything I went through before the first time, or everything I’ve dealt with since late December, or simply because once I found out I was pretty much done with him. I just feel like I should FEEL something more. But I don’t. I’m relieved. I’m sad my kids aren’t going to grow up in an intact home. I’m sorry I’m losing a bunch of my income. I’m sorry I may have to sell this house after only living here a short time. I’m sorry I’m getting a divorce in the sense that I failed; I feel like used goods sometimes. I look around and see all these people where the couples have been together forever and here I am, staring divorce in the face. But other than that I’m good. I’m belting out songs by Kelly Clarkson and Miranda Lambert, to name a few. I regret the life I’m losing but I don’t regret losing the man. I’m pissed when I think about everything he’s buying the whore and her kids and how he’s treating his own kids, but I don’t want him. Unlike a lot of people, especially those who divorce when the kids are young, I don’t think I’m going to have to co-parent with him. He’s trying to move out of state. The kids are old enough to say they don’t want to go with him. They are old enough to be told the truth about what’s happening. They know their father had an affair. They know who the other woman is. They have no desire to meet her and can articulate that to their dumbass dad if he tries to push the issue. They have chosen to cut off all ties to their grandparents. I know I should think long term but I’m happy about that. I’m happy I don’t have to worry about having her whore cooties on my kids. I don’t have to worry that his relatives will bad mouth me to my kids. I don’t have to miss out on holidays with my kids. I’m good. All around good.