No Going Back

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Not feeling like stretching this any longer. If you have any questions, ask me..

And some of you might've noticed I changed my Author's name, that's because the initials NK resembles my real name, that I do not wish to reveal to maintain my privacy, but Nera Keeves is a pretty name. And I'd like to see it on a book cover one day. Hopefully.

Also I have never been to a therapist or been in a support group so mind me if anything seemed out of place, I tried my best.

The support group ladies's stories are a part of the Series, I added a little snippet so I could give y'all an idea of what's coming in Random Realities.

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Floria

The compass of life is always shifting, divided by paths unwinding in unexpected ways. We weave dreams, nurture hopes, and lay out plans, but ultimately, it's a higher power design that takes us to the destination. We're powerless to alter its course or dictate the outcome. All we can do is cling to what's dear, lavish love on those who earn it, and remain steadfast in our loyalty. And perhaps most crucially, discern when to release our grip, to let go and move on.

Time's rhythm too, is peculiar - it never seems to sync with mine. It's always either racing ahead or lagging behind. Three months ago, the kind of change, even if small, but significant, I'm experiencing now would've seemed absurd, but I've learned that life can tumble in an instant, leaving us breathless, bewildered and sometimes broken.

The divorce proceedings were surprisingly uneventful, with Antonio's detachment more pronounced and peaceful. He spoke only when Ayah's name was mentioned, and even then, his responses were limited. The silence was a welcome bliss, as I'd exhausted all words with him. Yet, it felt more like a reflection of his disengagement as a father than a post-divorce reaction.

His visits with Ayah felt forced, like he was going through the motions out of obligation rather than genuine interest. I'm giving him space to deal with everything steadily, but my patience is wearing thin. I hope he'll come to terms with his feelings and priorities before it's too late, before Ayah slips further out of his life. The thought of her losing her father is heartbreaking - I've been blessed with a loving dad, and I want the same for her. Despite my complicated relationship with my own father now, my childhood was a haven of love and peace, and I want Ayah to experience that same security and devotion.

Those weeks after the painful truth surfaced, I was lost in a haze of numbness, crumpled inward like a discarded piece of paper. But amidst the darkness I felt trapped in, the people that kept me grounded were Hendrix, Audrey, and my grandmother - their presence didn't let me drift away to a one way destruction.

The day the divorce was finalized, I retreated to my bedroom, collapsing onto the bed, my gaze drifting aimlessly at the ceiling. But Hendrix burst in, gently, sweeping the mess of my wounds with his consoling words, he settled beside me like a guardian sent to take care of me. He offered a simple, yet profound, promise: if I needed to cry, he'd hold me. And I did, unleashing a nearly endless flow of tears, sobbing uncontrollably like a soul of a child devoid of parental love. He had wrapped his arms around me, holding me together with a tender fierceness, as if he might catch all the pieces if I shatter, or maybe he did.

The darkness I was tumbling down into, making me wonder how many times I could endure the suffocating ache of depression before giving up seemed like the only option. Yet, I knew I had to push through, to find a way to heal and rise above. Therapy wasn't my cup of tea, but joining an online support group, felt like a good call.