Fly, blackbird.

This is the one blog I have that you don't know about. The one place I can open up and tell you all the things I can't tell you.

I love you.
I believe you when you tell me that you love me.

I know that you haven't been the same since Afghanistan and a part of your heart died there and that was the part where I lived.

I had hoped you would want to move forward because we have a beautiful daughter now.
I thought you would have fought for us.
But you are lost to me.
And have always been lost to her but I never knew it.

There was a part of me that was always scared that this day would come to pass. Now that it has I feel -- nothing.
I don't think I am capable of feeling anything.

I am so exhausted.
I keep a brave face on.
I won't let myself fall apart.
I keep telling myself that I have been here before.
I will be okay.
Coraline would be served better to be raised with a man who adores her mother than with a man who can't commit to us.

It doesn't change the fact that it hurts.

I think it hurts more than I realize.
Mostly, because I can't feel it.
I don't even feel numb.
I just don't feel anything about this.
Everything is tightly bottled and tucked deep inside.

I guard against those feelings by staying up past the point of exhaustion so that when I fall asleep it's nothing but oblivion.
I stay busy with my friends and family. Surrounding myself with them.
I am so exhausted I can't even pray.

But I am filing for divorce this week.
I know, I have to.
I can't do this to myself anymore.
I won't do this to Coraline.
And if you want to be free so badly then we can let you go.