Tomorrow will be too late. It will have all passed then. I just hope I can make it through the rest of the day without incident. A call, a simple call. An ear to listen, a heart to understand. The trigger? Who knows. The music? The growing frustration?
It is difficult to understand, I know. And I know he says he does. I say sorry. I have always said sorry--probably more than needed--for this and other things. I am used to it. It does not matter. It has become part of my life, my routine. Despite what he says, I do not, I cannot fully believe he understands. I think he wants to see a wound, a physical sign of the damage. I sometimes wish that too. It would make it easy to explain, others would find it easy to understand.
Now I have the double burden of surviving this, and hiding it as well as I can. And despite all I say, and how hard I try, it weighs on me. How could it not? Yet I let him go, get off the phone, move on with his routine, because perhaps that is how he copes, that is all he can do. More than anything *tears welling in my eyes* I want to believe him when he says he understands. More than anything...
Yes, it will pass; it will pass as it always does, thank goodness for that *tears again.* I do not wish it to pass forever in the terminal sense of it, really I do not, but it sure would be nice to feel normal, level again.
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