After three days he's finally letting me go, and now - now I feel bad. It is now that I have to be wary of going back to him. We could be great friends. We would just be miserable husband and wife. His neediness and distance, my independence and longing. We torture each other. Let him find a girl more to his taste I say, let me go, find my own way, I'm not your child.
So, he is.
After an arduous weekend I can finally cry. There will be many tears before I'm done. Three years can seem a forever. Perhaps through my tears I'll see the sun rise.
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