Slowly, I lifted my cozy cotton sheets and fluffy down comforter, hopped out of bed, stood in front of the mirror atop my grandmother’s refurbished wood dresser and with the courage of an alcoholic at an AA meeting, I admitted my pain.

“I, Montana Moore, am in pain.”

So far so good.

“I’m in pain from being too trustworthy, too giving.”

I’m pretty good at this.

“I’m in pain for believing that Graham was God’s ebony angel and not the low-down, good-for-nothing, snake in the grass, cousin of Satan that he turned out to be!!”

“Meeooowwww!”

I had obviously strayed from my path. That was anger, not healing.

“I’m supposed to be focusing on the part I played. Dealing with my issues. Right, Muggly?”

“Meeooowwww!”

Okay, here goes again. I took a minute to roll my neck from side to side and shrug my shoulders. Then I planted my feet firmly on the ground, gritted my teeth, and once again admitted my pain.

“I, Montana Moore, am in pain. Pain from allowing myself to believe that being married was the single most important event in a woman’s life. I am in pain from believing that being single, successful, and a good person wasn’t enough. As a result, I allowed myself—” Taking a deep breath, I continued.

“I allowed myself to—” Taking another deep breath, noticing Muggly in the corner with her paw over her eyes.

“I allowed myself to be blinded by the conniving, deceitful, treacherous ways of a low-down, black bastard, good-for-nothing, slimy slithering face full of dirt, low to the ground, reptile snake in the grass!!!! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I HATE HIM!!!!”

Feathers from my down pillow filled the air. Screeching meows like sirens echoed through the room, as I continued beating the bed with the pillows until I was covered from head to toe like Frosty the Snowman. But I felt good. I felt really good. Oprah was right. But then again, Oprah is always right. I was laughing, crying, and looking ridiculous all at once, but feeling a lot better. Even Muggly looked refreshed.

I was tired of thinking of Graham, so my thoughts moved to Sheree. It was less than a month before her engagement party. Less than a month before I had to face my disgrace and lose the last tattered strand of my already low self-esteem. Okay, Montana, focus on something else. Focus on something good. Something positive.