Today is my anniversary.

Today, it has been one year since the artist formerly known as assboy (I’ve taken, of late, to referring to him as “X”. As in “the ex.” While the title “assboy” has served me well and has been quite entertaining, it suggests a certain amount of hostility.) confessed his sins and changed everything.

I remember one conversation we had in those first couple of weeks…he was wallowing. His level of self-loathing was almost unbearable. I don’t know if he expected me to reassure him, say “no, no. X. It’s okay. You’re not a bad person,” but I couldn’t. I was in too much pain myself. He actually said to me, in the middle of one of these self-deprecating rants, “And now I’ve destroyed you.”

Whoa. Hold on. Back up there, my friend.

“No, X. You destroyed us. You didn’t destroy me.”

I still find it a little bit amazing that even in those horrible, dark, sad, self-pitying moments, I was able to recognize my own strength. I knew that even though I was hurting, even though I was angry and sad, and yes, scared of being alone again, that I would be fine.

And I am. In fact, I’m more than fine.

Happy anniversary to me.