I am in such a state of physical and emotional limbo. I have choices to make. Big ones. That perhaps should have been made long ago, but I held onto hope, optimism, and denial. As if these would magically resolve the situation.
If I were my daughter, I would save her from this. Tear her from this. Release her from this.
Yet my pity dictates otherwise.
Decisions decisions decisions. I hate change. But not changing, as I’m learning, is far worse.