First I was going to call this post “the World’s End”, but decided not to – nothing has really ended in that way, and it might have come across a tad overdramatic. An era in my life has ended for sure, but it never was my whole world. Perhaps it should have been.
My partner and I just split up couple of days ago. What makes this very unfortunate situation is that we have to share this house for the next 6 months, and we are not talking to each other.
Not in a menacing sulky- kind of way, just like the house was occupied by melancholy ghosts who were just barely aware of each other.
Our cheerful toddler runs amok like he always does, thankfully blissfully unaware of what is going on, with a big grin on his face and pretending to be a dinosaur.
Me and his dad laugh from separate sides of the livingroom, but we don’t share the laughter.
I feel the worst for him, even though he is too young to understand I’m already worrying how he will feel when dad is not living in the house anymore.
And me not being able to snap out of anything has irritated him beyond belief and it all erupted in most spectacular way this past weekend when horrible things were said and done, and bridges ended up being burned for good.
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