It finally hit me.
It finally hit me. He never loved me. Not the way I loved him. Not the way I stayed, through years of sacrifice, loyalty, and carrying more weight than any one person should. I made excuses for him. I carried his half and mine. I gave him grace he didn’t earn because I believed in us . And when “us” fell apart, I still believed we could be them two people who loved their children more than they disliked each other. Two people who could choose peace for the sake of those little hearts who never asked for any of this. But now I see it clearly. He has no desire to put our children first. None. He would rather pretend than parent. He would rather lie than lead. He would rather protect his pride than protect the innocence of our children. He would rather let them live two separate lives—one with love and stability, the other filled with confusion and silence than face the truth of what he’s done. And our children? They didn't deserve this. They didn’t deserve to be raised in...