Suicidal Husbands

Not really sure what to say
finally made a choice, a choice for me, a choice for peace, for serenity, for a ceasing of all this complexity, a cessation of guilt always on my back, that I’m not grateful enough for what you bring to me, back and forth with my PTSD, and you not giving me what I need.

I finally did it, ripped the bandaid off, but maybe the timing was really rough, maybe this was one time where you hoped I cried wolf, but there’s really no timing ideal for this, to reveal that my love for you is gone, that my will to try and endure has moved on, that I cannot persist under different motives, and pretend I can abide or float on.

You asked me if there was any chance, any sliver of us making it through, I said no, and what did you go and do? Checked yourself in…

Oh, D, you ripped my heart in two. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t live my life taking care of you, with all the hell we’ve been through, externally and otherwise inflicted, I cannot have my love held hostage, nor its length dictated.

2 thoughts on “Suicidal Husbands

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