The Marriage Lie

by Kimberly Belle

“It’s a trinity ring. Pink for love, yellow for fidelity and white for friendship. I liked the symbolism of three—you, me and baby-to-be.”

we were that obnoxious couple who took up the entire BeltLine because we biked back holding hands.

And now, if I’m to believe everything I’ve learned today, this same man was a criminal.

Whoever said God doesn’t give you more than you can handle was full of shit, because this—this grief that slams me over and over like a Mack truck, this weight of missing Will that presses down on all sides until I can’t breathe—is going to kill me.

Why do they call it grief, when really it’s a whole gamut of awful emotions, confusion and regret and anger and guilt and loneliness, wrapped up into one little word?

Love and sacrifice. Honesty. Trust. We see what we want to see. We gather information, use it or ignore it to shape our own beliefs, to make our own choices, to withhold love or to give it freely.

My husband is dead. My heart is broken.