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On Regrets

I have quarreled with my husband once again today. In all fairness, when I look back on today, I know that I was in the wrong for some things. I very much admit so but I don't really want to reconcile.
I'm tired. I'm tired of being the one to come to him and say it hurts to be apart. Though people say pride can hurt you, perhaps, this time, I'd like to hold on to it. Or perhaps, after such an endless cycle, my heart is very much willing to give up on itself.
I know that today, I don't feel this need to say "Let's talk and make up." Perhaps the last few days have been too much. Perhaps I'm hurting from before. Perhaps perhaps perhaps.
Everyday, I tell myself, will I be willing to live with myself if tomorrow I die? I know that today I can. I can live with myself. I can say it's ok if we don't talk. I'm ok if he continues being how he is, silent and unfeeling, because if he is that unfeeling, then it's not my fault anymore. Have I not given enough love? Have I not given all I can? Have I not shared enough of my life? Is it not enough? Should I always have to give in?
Love is hard but it shouldn't be. Love should not be cold. Love should not be pushed. Love should be happy and warm and all the smiles in the world.
I give up. If today is the end, then let it end. I'm tired.

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