His wife can stay up for more than two hours, in the same room, crying every now and then.
He doesn't notice.
I just want to go home. I don't belong here anymore, with him. I am a stranger here. I am alone.
I don't have a home anymore. The Boy's Daddy had been the only home I'd ever known. It was hard to rebuild after he died, to create a new home, without him.
But we did it, and now he is taking that away from me and has the audacity to wonder why I'm pissed.
I've been here before, lying awake in the middle of the night, in tears because I am unwanted and unimportant, angry that the mere fact I feel that way isn't even worth discussion.
I left when I was 15 and swore I would never go back so what in the hell am I doing here??