I don’t know what happiness feels like anymore. I am dead to it.
I wanted to be his life preserver, the thing that would keep him afloat. Instead, he became my anchor. And I’m tired of drowning.
It happened in pieces, tiny little turning points. I’ll never figure out when it all turned, because it wasn’t a single moments. It doesn’t matter how many times I look back, how many times I try to figure it out. There is no before and after. Just a year of choices.
People don’t understand us. They don’t understand me. They think it’s so black and white, that he makes me miserable and that I should be with someone else and that I deserve something else. But it’s not black and white at all. It’s gray. It’s a never ending world of gray.