Meeting my

Meeting my Ex-Wife

Meeting my ex-wife was interesting.

I entered my new performing arts school, walked to the information window and she came in after me. She was sitting in a sofa waiting for her turn. I caught a glimpse of her and though she was cute.

We were in the same class and I was too afraid to talk to her so I waited a couple of days. I finally gathered the courage to talk to her and asked her out, at first she hesitated but said yes. We would go out after class.

I waited but she never showed up. The next day she apologized because something had come up, I accepted the apology and we agreed to go out that day.

I waited, but again she did not show up. The following day, she came up to me saying that her mom picked her up and she could not turn her down. She asked if she could make it up to me by going out that day. I was hesitant but I agreed because there was something in her smile.

She stood me up yet again. It was a Friday and we hadn’t exchanged numbers so the weekend went by and I was done with her.

The next Monday, she told me that she had a baby and he had been sick, that was the reason she did not show up. But he was fine now. That day we went out and a relationship began to grow.

I fell in love with her and her baby, we planned our wedding and in the process she got pregnant. Two years after we met, we got married (we were going to get married anyway so we just moved the date earlier.)

She had a good job at the university and I was a manager for a company, we were having a good life. A nice apartment, two cars, I had two motorcycles. We would go on vacation every two weeks. Life was good.

Then one day the company I worked for was sold and I was fired. The job market wasn’t good at the time and we faced a lot of couple’s problems. She filed for divorce and I didn’t want sign it. One day I read a text message in her phone and that was the end of our marriage. It was an ugly divorce, my self-esteem was almost non-existent from the previous relationship. And now this?

My daughter was two years old. For four years after that, she was the reason I woke up every morning. It took me a while but I finally got back on my feet. Or so I thought (this is a story for the next chapter.) Six years later all that has healed and we now get along. I remember most of the good times we had together, I am trying to forget the bad ones. But there is one thing I don’t remember her saying.

I love you

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