Loved The Right Way (My Husbands Best Friend)

Prologue

Prologue

To cry is to shed tears as the result of a strongly felt emotion. Hump, I guess I'm proof positive of that definition.

There I was, lying on my living room sofa, shedding out some strong ass emotions over love. Love's funny that way; when you are lucky enough to cross its path, you wonder what you did to receive even a fraction of the happiness that it has brought into your life. You want to thank god every day for giving you such bliss that is so incredible you could not even begin to describe it. Then there's the part of love that almost everyone has faced at least once in their lives, whether real love or just infatuation. The part of love that no one ever wished they had to face. It's the part that is extracted from your life, the kind that does not give you a warning or wave a white flag to let you know that it is coming to rip your heart out and shit on you repeatedly like you were the only toilet ever made. Then you wonder what you have done even to feel a fraction of pain like this. This is truly some shit that you would not even wish upon your worst enemy. I mean, I know everyone has wished someone some type of harm on various levels at one time or another. When you're in the heat of anger or hatred, you wish for things that you know you shouldn't, but you still do it anyway. I guess on some mental level. It's like a drug; it helps numb the pain for a while, but reality will eventually work its way back in. I went from being a happy wife to a wonderful husband and a beautiful son. To have my heart ripped out, stomped on, and wishing when he walked out of the front door, he would get hit by a plane, train, or any automobile that would smash his ass till there wasn't a body part that anyone could identify. Then there is that part of love that makes you angry because it lets you forgive even though you are still wondering how the person who says that they love you could hurt you and not give a fuck about it.