Split

It hurts to hold on, it hurts to let go.

Photo by Anthony Tran on Unsplash

It’s too painful to watch you cry; I turn my head. The view of the disorganized living room fills my vision. The pieces of once a happy home are laying on the floor. How did we get here? I ask myself for the hundredth time. I help you wrap up what’s left of the dishes. They’re mostly chipped or mismatched. I wonder, is this how you feel on the inside? The thought makes me sad. I try…