Aug 6, 2025
"When I come home from work and I see her face, at times I feel a deep pit of contrition for my resentment. She has what I lack, the piece that was missing all my life. She and the kids should have filled it so why do I still so comminuted and hollow? Why does the void feel like it grows more every day? My whisky bottle depletes and so does my emotional state. She does not know what it's like to have a family that leaves, she doesn't know what it's like to work hard. I'm always running, I can never stop. I'll soon asphyxiate. Yet I'm described as the negligent one even though I've held onto this misery for years, to protect her, to protect the kids. I'll never feel complete..."