Time has seemed to have flown on by these last two months and it's incredible. I never thought I'd have the strength to say goodbye, but I did. Now, it feels as if "goodbye" was years ago instead of a little over a month ago. Maybe it was years ago, in a way. I didn't think I'd be able to function without him. He made it seem like I needed him, making me cherish those far and few happy moments in between all of the screaming, yelling, and crying. Not even being thrown down the stairs or being strangled til the point where I questioned whether I was going to live or die could stop me. It literally took my employees to finally make me realize that I could make it. And I don't understand why it wasn't the one person that gave me every reason to leave, the one that inspired me, the one that made me feel alive. Was it just not the right time? Was I supposed to wait this long? I've now grown close to a person because of what happened. They say everything happens for a reason and thinks it was all meant to be. If it weren't for everything, we'd never ended up having such a good companionship. I suppose they're right. I'm so glad to have them in my life. Their friendship means everything to me... But it makes me wonder why it didn't happen years ago, when I feel it truly should have happened. Maybe it wasn't meant to be. It sure felt like it should have been, though. I regret not doing anything. I wonder what could have been. But that ship has long since sailed. Don't get me wrong, I've never been happier. I'm so proud of myself for leaving him. I feel like a weight has been lifted. I enjoy the silence in my house. I enjoy waking up in bed, by myself, not having to stress about when he's going to get hammered and start yelling at me. I just love being able to wake up in my bed and not have to worry about anything. I enjoy my solitude. I enjoy being able to do what I want, when I want. I do miss him. Parts of him. I miss what he used to be. I miss my best friend at the best times. But I don't miss what he became. I don't miss him making me hate myself. Now, he still attempts to, but now I simply hang up the phone or tell him to save his breath, because I don't care. It feels good. But out of this whole situation... there's only one thing I regret, and it's that I waited. I waited and chose the wrong path. And I'll always wonder what could have been. If anything would have happened. Even if nothing had happened, I think I still should have tried. It seems that since I'm more sober than I've been in the past two years, I think of the past and the mistakes I've made so much more often. Funny, how that works. That's life.
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