Some mornings, I miss the life I thought I had. Sometimes I find an old photograph and remember a version of Mark I haven’t seen in years. Sometimes I wonder whether my father would have told me to leave sooner.
But I no longer ask myself whether protecting my family means protecting the people who hurt it.
I know the answer now.
Love does not require you to abandon yourself.
Loyalty does not require you to lie.
And sometimes, the only way to protect what remains of a family is to stop pretending that nothing has been broken.
I went to the cemetery that evening believing I had lost my husband and discovered that my son had lost his wife.
I left understanding something I wish I had learned years earlier.
The people who betray you are responsible for their choices. You are responsible for what you allow those choices to cost you.
