Ok, this is another one of the hard ones (just shows you that healing is not linear). There are days I feel like I’m stitched together with fury and fatigue. Angry. Sad. Frustrated. Just exhausted from pretending that I’m okay when I’m just… not. I survived a childhood that left bruises no one saw, not just on my skin but in my wiring. I learnt to flinch quietly, to endure loudly, and to love without expecting to be loved back in the same way. Then I thought I found safety in someone, and I let my guard down. I built a life around the idea that this time, maybe it would be different. Instead, he cheated. Twice. Somehow, I’m the one left questioning my worth. He lives in the house I provide. He breathes the air I pay for. He’s jobless, entitled, and throws tantrums every time I remind him that we are no longer together. But I keep him here for now because of the kids. We just moved them to a foreign country, and I am trying to give them some form of stability, even w...