Last night, my husband and I managed to get through the whole evening without fighting. Yes, he still annoyed me occasionally, and Harley, our yorkie-poo, certainly was annoying (as always), but we did not fight. Nights like last night give me hope that I did not make a mistake when I married him. They make me feel like, if we work at it, we will be okay, and we will not end up divorced, as my parents did.
I did not mention my dad when I was talking about my family. He died my senior year in high school; I regret terribly that I did not make an effort to spend more time with him and get to know him better. Where I first went to college, I was about five hours from where he lived; much closer than I had been since my parents divorced. Now I live only four hours from where he lived, and I can only visit his grave. We all have regrets, and that is perhaps the deepest one I have. Hopefully I will see him again one day.
Back to my 'ray of hope', last night was wonderful. I hope for another like it.
I also have hope that I will be able to stick to losing weight this time. Before the wedding I was down to 183. Now I am back up to 197, only a month later. I let myself go on the honeymoon, and did not get back on track right away as I had planned; in fact, I stayed seriously off-track. I simply keep reminding myself that I will end up morbidly obese if I keep up the way I am, and I don't want to do that. I want to be able to take my kids to the beach (or just go with my husband, we are young, after all) and not be ashamed to wear a bathing suit. So, I keep those images in mind, and I press on. I ignore the office candy dish, I resolutely go to the gym, and I keep my calories under 1500/day, as best I can. My willpower grows stronger every time I deny fat self her wishes, and hopefully soon I'll be able to grant my slender self her wishes, occasionally.