My dad is on his way to come get me from my house.
I’m walking the floors for what I feel like might be the last time.
I started choking on tears, looking at my my pictures, my little cafe-inspired decorated kitchen, our coffee table filled with art books, the little lamps and trinkets on my end tables…
I walked by our bedroom, only to see him holing up in there still, tangled underneath the covers… since 10pm last night.
And I see my wedding rings on the dresser, little lays of sunlight making them glisten faintly in the dark room.
I’m sobbing now and it won’t stop.
I don’t want this.
I didn’t want it to be like this.
I feel like I’ve been severed in half.
It’s the worst pain I’ve felt in my entire life.