The Book I Couldn’t Have Written

In January of 2021, I was able to put a check next to my long time goal of authoring an actual book.

After years of trying to hammer out some kind of semi-readable story, I finally found the discipline to do so in the form of a tale that may or may not be kind of true-ish.

The beautiful thing about creativity is all the potential artistic license one has over their projects! In the case of the book in question, I was able to take something that I experienced, and embellish the hell out of it until it was a shiny new story.

That said, if I had written it while my late husband was alive, I would have found myself divorced.

At the risk of smack talking the dead, my late husband had some pretty serious jealousy issues regarding certain aspects of my life.

I learned quickly which topics to avoid around him; these topics could include anything from school dances to childhood family vacations.

Somehow, he had it in his head, that anything I enjoyed before him could be traced back to other men or romantic partners — and if it was something memorable to me, that automatically meant that I was longing for it again.

I can understand not singing the praises of past lovers in front of one’s current romantic partner. I can also understand not comparing previous partners to your current one. My late husband, however, believed that all guy friends of mine had been past lovers. No matter what I said, he “just knew”…