Things are bad, and going to get worse. That’s an odd way to begin a post that is ultimately about hope, but there it is.
After struggling to keep the house, it looks like I’m starting forclosure. This may trigger a bankruptcy. Nothing I can do about that. I still love my wife (Exwife, the hard voice in my head reminds, and I have to agree. Exwife) but I have accepted she left of her own free will and is never coming back. I have accepted that I am alone. I have started to be at peace without her and with alone. I have even accepted love, and my fears, and company and companionship. All of these are good steps on the way to being a healthy adult. That is hopeful.
Tonight I write because I think I have taken another step.
I have to admit now that my Exwife and I shared a lot of common interests. My best friend constantly says never marry your best friend because if you lose your marriage, you lose it all. I can’t say I agree, and we have discussed it, always agreeing to disagree at the end. But I can see where my best friend is coming from. After my Ex- left, every genre of movie, every TV show, every novel we read and talked about was suddenly a gateway back to our togetherness. And after she left, our loving, sharing, togetherness was like wearing blood soaked trousers in a river of piranha. All the things I used to do to unwind, to relax, brought me pain. I would watch comedies in tears, vintage scifi made me feel abandoned, and fantasy left me cold and alone and despondant. I had shared everything with her, and it was a gateway back to a love I would never know again. I stopped being able to relax, to unwind, and it caused some severe damage.
But today I watched Hot Fuzz. After Shaun of the Dead, my wife – normally a caustic reviewer and critic of everything, was genuinely delighted. We devoured all three of the Cornetto Trilogy together. We agreed that they were well done, and it was a bright moment together to see them. There were more movies like this, and after they were all simply forbidden to me. They caused me to become depressed, withdrawn, and sullen.
I watched Hot Fuzz tonight, and I laughed again.
So the road ahead is bad. But at least I have some part of me back.
And if that isn’t hope, I don’t know what is.
Jamesdanielross's Blog 
First, I’m deeply sorry for what you are going through. The pain is something I can’t even imagine. But you are one thing (a lot of them) that I aspire to be: a great writer. I just don’t have the guts like you to open up to the world not just your soul but your art. You are a beautiful person. I admire you. Thank you.
You are very kind, and I thank you for this.
I believe that you can do this, too. A big part is remembering that pain is from damage inflicted upon you, not a hidden shame. You are still a beautiful, wonderful person. Being hurt does not make you ugly, or unlovable. Pain is the natural reaction to being hurt. If sharing thhat hurt can ease the suffering of others, then maybe something good can come of it.
You inpsire me.