Six years ago between Christmas and New Years I had a falling out with my family. It was a big crazy incident that blew out of proportion. Things were done that couldn't be taken back and I have been estranged from them since. It is something that has shaped who I have become over the last six years. I think I've become the type of person I didn't have the guts to be before, but do miss the family I once had. The problem with missing that part of who I was is that it doesn't exist anymore.
Like I have said before I have a great husband who loves me more than anyone. My children are healthy, happy, wonderful people. Even my mother in law has accepted me as if I was her daughter. The problem that occurs is that my family still lives nearby. My sisters and I have friends in common and with the invention of Facebook, our mutual circle has attracted a few questions. It's hard to explain to people on the outside that I do love my family, the memories of who we were. But it's not a place that I ever want, or ever could go back to. Everyone thinks it's as simple as forgiving, but it's not.
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