I guess I should finally admit to myself that I am hurting and that I feel used. And it's pain and anger and frustration. I'm confused, and defiant. I am undeserving and I am in mourning.
I discovered that I care more and he cares less than we said we would.
And it's fine I guess. And I'm proud of myself, because I'm letting it go completely until I maybe want it back in a safer way.

And of course, it's all forgiven. Which is sick.