What I know now, six months too late, is that some comparisons aren’t worth making, and some words can’t be unsaid.
I destroyed his confidence to protect my ego, and in doing so, I lost the best thing that had ever happened to me.
Love didn’t die from lack of feeling in our case.
It died from too much honesty, the wrong kind of honesty. Honesty meant to wound rather than illuminate.
Sometimes the person who loves you most is the one you hurt deepest.
And sometimes that hurt is too profound to heal.
David chose to forget me rather than forgive me.
And I can’t say I blame him for that choice.
Some words are bullets. Once fired, they can’t be taken back.
I’d shot my marriage in the heart with six words, and no amount of regret could bring it back to life.
