(C) TC Matson 2017
I’m always left with an open wound, hurt, broken, and uncertain where we stand. I meant my words when I said he was just a shell. He’s empty. I’m empty. We don’t laugh. We barely talk. And there’s not much contact of any sorts without anger. Even under the same roof, we can be standing in the same room and not exchange a look.
Once he used to eye me from across any room. In those very glances, I could feel the depth of his love for me. His stares would pierce my soul and I could feel his want, his need for me. But those very looks dissipated over the years.
I know he’s not the only one who’s changed. I have too. I’ve grown. I’ve become a mom. I’ve molded around his world. What crushes me the most is I feel I’ve become a roommate who occasionally shares an intimate moment with the man she lives with.