The rain was falling as I walked home from the bookstore the other day, a light gentle April rain that brought me back to another place and time. A time when yet another man who seemed to have so much potential hadn't been quite able to live up to that potential that only I had been able to see.

It was a time when running – and especially running in the rain, so out of character from who I used to be - became my therapy.

With each step, the pain lessened just a little bit more. I was doing something that I had never known I could do before. And with the support and encouragement of a new found friend, the hurt and the pain and the regrets of "if only", began to slowly lessen.

But there was something more.

I wanted him to be wrong. I wanted him to pay. I wanted him to suffer the way I felt he had made me suffer. I wanted her to suffer too; the woman he insisted was never more than a friend, the same woman who had called herself my friend, who thought nothing of finding every opportunity she could to flirt with him.

I wanted them both to pay.Continue Reading