Four plus years ago, I published my first novel. At the time, I had been sitting at a cafe in Rome, staring at a wonderful stationery store, and suddenly realized I needed to write a story about a woman who discovers her husband is having an affair, confronts him, he admits it, moves out and then she is faced with live without him…. The positive, she moves to Rome.
What the heck was I thinking writing all that back then? Was it because I saw into the future, or was my subconscious wishing something crazy like that would happen to me in real life? Scary to think about it. Although if I think back really hard – my explanation would be that I simply fell in love with Rome figured there would be a great story to tell – that is all.
The interesting thing is that – now – I am sensing every chapter is unfolding – in real life. And if that is the case, then please bring on the ENDING!
After the driving to nowhere in particular, I ended up at a friend’s house. Mostly because she suggested I busy myself by helping her organize her relocation because of work.
My life-long friend’s back story goes like this. She’s been separated from her spouse exactly two-years now. And when I say separated I mean in distance, not so much in their daily communication via phone, text, emails and all else with him mostly manipulating her every thinking, and plans to moving on or forward.
The end of their union is not my place to discuss, but what I am trying to say here is that, I thought I was emotionally in a bad place, until I got to her house and spend a week now, learning that after two years, she is still bitter, angry, jealous (because he’s moved on, but not really) and regrets leaving him? Oh my god seriously! Not a good role model for me right now, or…is it a good thing I am witnessing what not to do?