DIJA'S SECOND ACT

Dear Lorenzo, It's Thursday night, 8:25 p.m. and Amira's in her room doing homework while I sit in the dining room, eating my dinner (a yogurt) and watching the game (Bengals/Browns, I heart Joe Burrows). Today was a good day. I woke up, worked out worked, walked the dog, yada, yada yada. There's nothing new under the sun. Tonight your daughter said that she doesn't know how you put up with me for so long. Neither do I.  During the course of our relationship I've done a LOT of wrong.  I misrepresented myself from day one, wanting so badly to be who you WANTED me to be. I'm no longer sure I can be vegan. I smoke weed...A LOT. I have Multiple Sclerosis and am going to take my doctor recommended medications whether you like it or not.  Our daughter has asthma and she's going to take her doctor recommended medications whether you like it or not. My friends, mother and sister are the most important parts of my life and you'll never be able to replace them or ...

Dear Lorenzo, It's 9:54 p.m. and I just got out of bed to make myself a cup of tea and talk to you. On purpose. I turned off Cobra Kai, got up from under my just washed comforter, and prepared myself an evening snack of a single mug of piping hot tea before making my way to the computer to write. I'm starting to heal. Not just the wounds that have grown out of losing you, but...I'm starting to heal from years and years of self-neglect. (Is that the right term?) As well you know, I've NEVER wanted to get married. I think you thought I'd change my mind once Amira got here and we were living together. I didn't. If anything, my foray into living in sin only solidified my theory that marriage is the death of a woman's freedom. Living with you was certainly the death of mine. I am not the victim, you didn't TAKE anything from me, I gave myself to you willingly. I gave you my heart but I also gave you power over me. The power to decide what I eat, what I drink,...