I think, Irish, that you and I are at the point that we could/should let go, but are hanging on to that last tendril of the old marriage, the old hopes, and more than likely the old fears. I have a job. I have my family. And one way or another, God will take care of us. I truly believe that. I think you do too. The bottom line is, we're afraid.
To let go means the packing away of the R that we, at least, thought was something special. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. There will still be bad days, I know, but I'm ready to let him follow his own path, and reap his own destruction, if that is what lays there.
Buck up, Tonto. You never know. You may bump into George Clooney tonight and never look back.
