As year four of the split comes closer, it’s unusual for me to have thoughts about my ex or my marriage. So when I do, it can catch me off guard and lead to a strange mix of emotions.
For a few weeks now, I’ve had this feeling, as though I was being prepared for some news to come my way about my ex. Living in a small town, it’s easily heard and difficult to avoid. I knew he was married, thanks to the many people who attended his wedding (and felt the need to send me photos from it). I figured he was probably going to become a father soon and feeling sorry for the possible foetus, thought nothing more of it.
I was sat with my sister at the weekend as she received some snapchats. I caught glimpses of the photos. It turns out I was wrong about the baby but rather, it was a very late walima party. I could’ve shrugged it off like I did with the wedding but this time, possibly because of the deflated way I was already feeling, I couldn’t. I felt stung by the injustice of it all.