I didn't stop caring...

about my husband. I really didn't. I always loved him and I feel as though I always will. What changed took time and it took something outside of myself to lead me into that direction, but as it did, I didn't stop caring. I never intended to cause him pain, I know that I did, but I wasn't trying to destroy him. I really am the same person that I was, I didn't get posessed by a demon or have some psychological malfunction that switched something in my brain to suddenly become a raging bitch.

I gave him my heart, my affection, my love, my devotion...for ten years. I was there, I didn't move and I wanted to be with him always. But over time, little by little, slowly and slightly, I couldn't trust him with my heart any more. It was eaten away, like a slow spreading disease until one day in June, there was a hole that couldn't be repaired. I left. My heart left. My mind left. I couldn't do it anymore, but I didn't stop caring.

He says that he hopes that I did stop caring. That no one hurts another person like I hurt him if they care about them. He doesn't get it, I guess. It wasn't about doing something to him, it was about me and what I felt I had to do. I still look for validation from him, I still care about what he thinks and how he feels, I still care about him and I always will, because I never stopped.