What hurt the most

Do you know what hurt the most? On my 31st birthday, I stayed at the home we bought together and nursed you back to health. You were sick with something he gave you. I gave up my birthday to make sure you were ok. I stayed and waited and took care of our son while you slept. I gave you medicine and fed you and made sure you were comfortable. I nursed you. But then you started to get better which was my intention and do you know what you did? I was upstairs doing something I could hear someone talking through the laundry chute. I went downstairs thinking someone was in the basement and there you were on the steps, on your phone, talking to him. I spent my birthday nursing you and after you got better, you called him. And you know what else, when I gave you a look like what the fuck are you doing, you looked back at me and shrugged. You shrugged. What a horrible thing to do. Not a thank-you for taking care of our son. No thank you for giving you medicine. No apologies for not celebrating my birthday. A shrug. That’s all it was to you. You shrugged me off like I was nothing.

 

That’s what hurt the most.

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