Sometimes life seems like trying to get onto Platform 9¾.  You’re running around with this cart full of baggage.  There are people everywhere, some helpful and some not.  You see a wall ahead, but you know that if you believe hard enough and stay relaxed, you’ll barrel through it with no problem.

And then, occasionally, some house elf seals up the portal and you crash into the wall instead of passing through it, and all your baggage goes flying up and then down, at which point it lands on top of you.

What?  That’s never happened to you?  OK, perhaps I’m stretching the metaphor a little far.  My point is that, as a divorcée, and especially as a divorcée with my particular set of circumstances, I carry around some pretty weighty baggage.  I’m sort of a hoss, so I can deal with it most of the time.  But occasionally I hit a wall, or a wall hits me.

Yesterday was one of those days.

Yesterday I found out that The Ex is dating again.  I’d suspected this for a long time, and I’m not averse to him dating.  Despite everything, I really do want The Ex to be happy.  I wouldn’t want him not to be dating.

It’s just difficult, especially knowing whom he’s dating.  You see, I watched The Ex fall in love with this woman while we were still married, while we were still “working through things,” etc.  I don’t believe anything happened in the typically acknowledged sense of the word.  But I saw their romance begin.  She was there for him, and he helped her through some really rough times.  And I knew that she would be better for him than I could ever be again.  And so, while we were still going through the motions of attempting to save a marriage, I effectively stepped aside.  And I watched her take my place, not just with The Ex, but with his parents and our friends, too.

And now The Ex is telling people about “the girl he’s dating.”  And even though I support it, and even though I wish them the best, it still stings.

Harry & Ron know what I’m talking about.