Still Hurts
Three Mother’s Days since we split. I don’t expect the jerk to remember my birthday or acknowledge Christmas, but the one undeniable tie that we will have for the rest of our lives is the fact that I’m the mother of his child. And I think I do a pretty damn good job, given my circumstances. The least he could do is acknowledge that fact, but instead, he passes off that woman as the mother of his kids and gives her all the praise.
Total strangers in my life extend the courtesy of a respectful, thoughtful “Happy Mother’s Day.” A simple text message would suffice. But nothing.
But why would I expect anything more? I know better. I’d hoped his new-found appreciation of “family” would at least make him appreciate how much I do for our child.
Obviously not.