Grief is giving me a black eye

Grief is a funny thing.
I am the type of person who researches everything. When J and I were going through fertility treatments I read every article, book, magazine, and blog post I could on the topic. I felt like I knew more about the subject of infertility then my own RE. Maybe that's even true. Since then I've moved on to reading everything about pregnancy, everything about having two infants, everything about having a family member addicted to drugs, having potty training toddlers, and now separation and divorce and how it affects a person and their children. The research and advice on a topic is all the same no matter what you're reading. But you never really know something until you LIVE it. Why I never realized this before I don't know. But something about this separation and impending divorce and moving through the grief process, even though our marriage had probably reached it's real end a few years ago and I chose to ignore that, really makes me see how you don't know something until you really truly live it.
I can have empathy. But I will never understand something someone else is going through unless I too have experienced it. And even then my experience will always be different than someone else's, since we're unique beings.

Lately, I know from my research that I am moving through the continuum of anger and sadness. I think I am moving farther down the road to grief recovery because I don't think about my sadness and anger as much as I was a month ago. But when I do think of it it hits me even stronger than it did before. It's like it sucker punches me, out of no where, completely unexpected. With much stronger emotion than even a few weeks ago.
I don't like it. I don't like how it makes me feel. But I guess it's something I've got to experience. Otherwise I don't think I'll ever heal from this. The part that complicates all of this is that J has a disease which caused all of this mess. And part of me still feels sorry for that. Part of me still wishes that it never had to be like this. I could think that if he ever does get better who is to say we couldn't be together again - but I have to crumple that thought up like a piece of used paper, and throw it in the proverbial trash can. There is just no way our relationship could ever go back to the way it was before all this.

This is our new normal. I can only hope that someday he does get well, and we can at least share some sort of friendship, even if it's on the most basic level, again. That someday I can feel complete forgiveness for him and his disease. That someday when he calls and leaves a message I am not fearful of even speaking to him because I'm afraid it will bring  me more sadness and set me back on my own recovery from the loss of our relationship.
I can't say that I'm not happy with my life - because I am - each day I feel joy. But I hope that maybe someday I can look back and not feel sadness about the relationship J and I had together.