An ugly kind of blind

It’s been a blustery, rainy couple of days here in Brew City, but I'm seeing more clearly than I have in years.

While most often people celebrate anniversaries, or even half-anniversaries, yesterday I celebrated sixth months of freedom from a relationship wherein I allowed myself to be – pausing to tame my tongue – emotionally trampled on, unbeknownst to me at the time.

I'm not celebrating the arbitrary numeric aspect of the six months themselves. Rather, I guess I’m celebrating my long-awaited, recently attained realization of just how pathetically blinded I was. So, Happy Half-Un-Anniversary to me!

If there's one thing I've learned in the past incredibly edifying year of my life, it's that love can be an ugly kind of blind, but, thank God, the twenty-twenty view of hindsight is a thing of beauty from above.

So whether it takes six months of begging our Father for mercy and healing, a stellar date with a super cute attorney, or some combination thereof, when you reach that point of clarity, see your blindness, and put it behind you, Hot Dang does it feel good!