"But he loves me."
Even when the words fell out of my mouth. I knew they belonged in some sad sack drama that no one even wants to produce anymore.
How had I fallen into the vortex? How had I forgotten every piece of sense?
As I asked the questions. I knew the answer.
I had trained myself to accept what I was getting. Because I hoped somewhere, somehow it would make up for me not loving myself.
I only look backwards now in my rear view mirror. Things are smaller than they appear.