“I’m Sorry” – it’s a song by John Denver that played over and over in my head for weeks, possibly months.

“I’m sorry for all the lies I told you; I’m sorry for the things I didn’t say” — this was in my head as I went through cancer treatment. I didn’t see it as a premonition at the time, but I should have. There were other premonitions. I had dreams of betrayal. Moments on the cusp of sleep and waking when I would tell him he was going to miss me. I couldn’t understand it all at the time, and I would not until months later. I told him about my dreams, but he was dismissive. He denied it all. “I’m sorry for all the lies I told you.” I wanted him to be sorry! “I’m sorry for myself for living without you.” My friends said he’d be sorry and that he would realize what a huge mistake he had made; some even went as far as to say he’d want to come back to me. None of this has happened, and I am so relieved that it hasn’t.

Sometimes the weight we need to lose is not on our bodies. I’ve lost a lot of weight. The weight of expectations placed on me by him, the weight of the mass of things he kept in my home, the weight of not feeling loved or even considered and the weight of all of the unkindness I experienced by him that last year. All of this is lifted almost like a rain cloud that had released all of its rain. I don’t know that he’s sorry, and I truly hope that he’s not — because I know I’m not.