It's Christmas Eve. I don't even know what that means anymore.
He's been telling me for days how miserable he is ... drawing charts and graphs with arrows pointing at various parts of his life that are broken. And I'm the nebulous around which all of this misery swirls.
I feel like shit. I have cried nearly constantly for days. I don't know how many. More than a week. I haven't slept. I am exhausted.
I called my counselor today. On Christmas Eve. She told me what she's been telling me: It's over.
I know. I know it's over. I just can't handle the heart ache. I might break.
