I have a sneaking suspicion that when we look back on this years from now, we aren't going to regret that we didnt fight hard enough, didn't care enough. I doubt they can say the same. I'm holding out hope that while WS is in colorado, his friend can slap some sense into him. And hope is a dangerous thing. I'm really tired of feeling right it about now. How is it I can detach from all the patients I see every day. The 35 year old mother of 3 who has ovarian cancer, the 13 year old drowning victim. But I can't detach here, the one place I really would like to. I know it takes time, I'm only like 2 weeks post Dday but I don't quite have the luxury of time that everyone says is so important. I'm scared I'll move away in 3 months and any hope there ever was will be gone.
M:26 H:32 T:8yrs ILYBNILWY/ "I'm not happy": 2/6/16 D-Day-discovered PA/EA: 2/10/16 Separated: 2/14/16 He's living with OW I moved to different state: 06/16 Currently: Trying to move forward