Nostalg-ick
I can’t believe I haven’t written in almost a year. That’s, like, a lot of marriage.
At LEAST once a month I’m bombarded by the “what ifs”.
Maybe not the “what ifs” but at least the “remember whens”.
The certain curve of his lip, the way his left elbow didn’t bend all the way straight, his slightly turned-in walk, the way he looked like he wanted to kill me as soon as kiss me…
All very bad very good things. And it hurts to think about. But I’m a masochist.
I’m doing the right thing, right? I’m sticking with this because I WANT to, right? Not just because he loves me and because of my dog?
Nothing is ever permanent in my mind. I can stay as long as I can, but there is inevitable flight. I’m surprised I’ve lasted this long. I’m compromising a lot here, and it’s become sort of pointless.
Ugh.
