Yesterday
Yesterday, I asked you for help. I finally told you about the war I fight with myself on a daily basis. Yesterday, you told me you couldn’t be with someone who was depressed. You couldn’t be with someone who was at zero when you were at 100. Yesterday, you made your case for why you would be leaving me. You mentioned I don’t clean often enough That you are disappointed that I can’t seem to commit to something as simple as taking a walk every day That I don’t talk much anymore. That although you love my cooking, I don’t do that enough either. You told me that even on a family vacation where I was actually having fun, there were many points where I looked absolutely miserable, even though I’d deflect when someone brought it up. You mentioned that I don’t really take care of myself or do anything that is just for me And that the efforts I’m making to become financially stable again are not enough. So you said you would be leaving. I didn’t figh