Grace
My husband left. He stopped making a decision to love me a long time before, but I finally made the decision that I can't continue in those circumstances. I asked him to go. Not because I don't love him, but because he made it impossible to love myself. He is abusive and chaotic. I can't live in the same chaotic world that he resides in. I can't allow my boys to watch him treat me the way he has. It's not okay. I never said I didn't love him. He moved on quickly and left behind a house full of garbage, chaos, and broken promises. He left clothes and rocks and piles of garbage and bills.
And I'm left behind with a freezer full of spoiled meat and a head full of spoiled thoughts, an attic full of toppled boxes and old stuffed animals and holy walls to patch. He's moved on, doing fun things with his fun girlfriend and it's just so fun. And I'm here cleaning up his mess. I'm so mad and anxious and insecure and there's no peace.
It's a heavy load to bare, but I'm strong. And I will continue to try my hardest to be gracious. Even if it kills me.
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