My ex got married and I went mad

If he has grown into a loving husband to someone else, then could I have been the darkness?

When a woman you once called a friend marries the man who once abused you, what are you supposed to feel?

Anger? Rage that she chose him and his transgressions—things she knew about, you told her, she was there for some of it firsthand—over you?

Sadness? Despair that he snagged and manipulated and convinced her of the same half-truths and full-lies you once believed yourself?

Happiness? Relief that everyone has grown and this is a truly good thing—grace toward his past self, her past self, your past self?

Do you assert your own years-old pain? Do you smile blandly when their nuptials arise in conversation with an acquaintance as if you haven’t thought about it at all? Do you stalk the internet—fully aware that it’s degranged—to see who joined the celebration? (When the pictures load, do you feel betrayed?)

Do you scream that your experience was real, give credence to memories that still infiltrate the occasional nightmare, shout in step with Taylor Swift: I was there, I remember it all too…