Living for me. 

It’s 2am and I’m still not done cleaning the house. But I did four loads of laundry, emptied my truck, cleaned out my truck, organized everything from inside my truck, and made and ate an egg sandwich. Guess you could say I’m winning right about now. For a moment, however, I paused. I let a few tears fall. You see while I was doing laundry, I found the dress I wore from my wedding. I remember that day. I remember how he said he was going to cry. I remember holding his hands and feeling the roughness of his fingers. I remember our vows, our I do’s. I had a moment of sadness. 

I’m alright now. It’s ok to remember the good in him. I believe it’s still there, buried under all the confusion, under whatever voices are battling inside his head. It’s there. Will it ever come back? I’m not sure. For the first time I’m not waiting for it. I’m not expecting it. I’m living my life. Day by day. Hour by hour. 

I’m doing something I have never done before. I’m living. And this time I’m living for me. 

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