A 30 year old festering, infected wound has been ripped open. I have shut down.
I am broken. Broken.
I'm sorry it is inconvenient. I'm sorry I've ruined the weekend. I'm sorry to have such "luxury" as this.
I don't care about the argument, I don't care what was said, I don't care who was right. None of it matters.
I am broken.
I'm sorry your hurting and broken, I'm sorry you're back in that place scared and alone. I'm sorry it's been rotting for so long. I hope you can come through this, I hope you can heal, because I do love you and I only ever wanted to see you happy.
ReplyDeleteThis will be my last reply. I'm too scared to say the things I'm feeling, too scared to loose you to the pain. I'm not gonna make it the 60, my body can't take it, but I've made peace with that. It's longer than 18 years and 20-29 years is still a lot of life to put things in place so you'll be ok when I'm gone, because you promised me you wouldn't follow. So please keep this promise, please try and heal so that you'll be ok when I can't keep going anymore.
And don't stop writing, it's nice to have little pieces of my husband I can hold onto.
ReplyDelete