I watched my husband fix his hair, brush his teeth, and spray on his cologne. He grabbed his coffee and kissed us all goodbye. I felt a wave of bitterness well up in me. I don’t know where it came from but I knew it wasn’t good. Off he went. Again. I chose the life…
I recently found a journal entry from my seven-year-old self. It read, “I feel bad for my brother and I’m surprised!” That’s pretty much my personality in a nutshell. I’ve always been, well, empathetically challenged. Even as a wife, it’s something I struggle with. Especially when Kyle’s upset over small(er) things—like researching and picking out…