I remember finding you curled up on the floor of her old bedroom after it had been completely cleared out and was being made into the office we could share. I remember the look of despair on your face when I came into the room and you were crying, holding a bundle of her old clothing. Saying you couldn’t do this anymore and you missed your baby too much and would do anything to trade our places. Out of anger, you said that, you told me your lost child was worth more than your living fiancé. Imagine.
Forgiveness comes in many forms and I had to put on my bravest face that day and conclude that life just got the better of you, that this was a slip-up. Like a smoker giving up cigarettes and falling back a few times, you missed what you could never have again. Harsh reality, but a truth.
Now I guess I’m facing the harsh reality that nothing will ever change as I decided to venture into the basement you told me was completely empty for years, to never enter because the stairs were falling apart and you didn’t want me to get hurt down here. Well, I got hurt down here with a little curiosity. You still keep things of hers and you spend time down here dwelling on it when you should be moving on. You will never get through this if you don’t do it now. Maybe one day you’ll see me again, but it will never be the same as you’ve seen me for these past few months. It will never be the same.
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