...but I love you.

I think we should talk.

I don't know how to tell you I'm not mad at you even though I've lost my cool a hundred times today.
I don't know how to tell you I've been counting down the hours...the minutes...and the seconds until I saw those stupid suitcases ever since you put them in the back of the Durango when I picked you up at the airport.
I don't know how to tell you that counting all those hours, minutes, and seconds makes me feel sick to my stomach.

Today, something even more horrible happened.  I caught myself in mid-thought, telling myself, " Whew!  We won't have to worry about that soon because it'll just be...us (he'll be gone)."

I don't know how to tell you how guilty I felt.
I don't know how to tell you how horrible and angry I felt either.
I don't know how to tell you I hate living two lives and feeling like neither one is allowed to know about the other.

I don't know how to tell you to stay because I know, no matter what I say, you have to go anyway.

But I love you.

I love you.