We’ve circled back here. Pain and illness have tied the relationship in a messy, inescapable, tangled, knotty web. Constricting, cutting off circulation slowly killing me, killing us. Hard to see the end. The air is sucked out of me every time I walk in the door. I resign and give up again every day, hoping, praying, needing to return to a normal life. I was elated and joyful when we were married. I thought I’d never be alone again. But here I sit, in the dark, with the glow of the monitor as my only warmth.
|The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dali|