Open letter to the ex who reads this

I've finally really forgiven you.

I know I said I had when we corresponded earlier this year, but I hadn't. I said it because I thought that's what you needed to hear. I kept playing the "What if?" game in my head and always lost.

What if... I'd been pregnant when you left? You have to know that, even then, abortion would not have been a "choice" I'd have made.
Would you have taken the child from me, since realistically you would have been able to afford a much better attorney? I can't fathom the hurt of not seeing my child grow up, nor would I wish it on you.
Would you have married me for the child's sake? I don't think either of us would be as happy as we are now--and I believe, hope, and pray you're happy. I know I am. I wouldn't have the husband and children I know and love so dearly. I don't remember not knowing their voices. I've hated the movie Family Man for the ending.

Only recently have I completely given that "game" up. Nobody wins. Even though I'd been absolved of the sins I'd committed with and against you, it has taken me until now to grasp that God's forgiveness is infinite. Sincerely requested, it's always received. It's not "conscience" that would nag me afterward, despite absolution; it was Satan. That's how he works, you see--reminding you, poking you, never releasing you to accept the Love that could be yours. Hey, he's got to stay in practice.
When a priest reminded me of that recently, it became so easy to let go. I gave it all away to the One who said He'd carry me, and I forgave you. And myself.

Another admission: it hurt when you left. I felt used and tossed aside and couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong. Now, though, I've realized it really doesn't matter. God writes straight with crooked lines, and that heartbreak has taught me gratitude for what I have now--the husband, specifically, and the children... and my faith. I don't know if I'd have that with you and I do pray that you have found yours. I hope that the miracle of your own child(ren?--soon?) has shown you that there are miracles in our imperfect world and things greater than ourselves.

It was something of relief, or vindication, when you admitted that you hadn't made the same mistakes again. That takes humility to admit, especially to the person with whom you made those mistakes.

I'll continue to pray for you, as I try to do for all those I know who have made mistakes (including myself). If it brings you happiness, or relief, or even so simple as entertainment, keep reading this blog. (I couldn't stop you anyway.) I just wanted you to know that, if we should ever meet in person again, I think I'll be at peace.