I’m not going to tell myself what I’ve been inwardly repeating for months now: It could be worse. That’s what I’ve been doing. Justifying staying with him by reminding myself it could be worse. Look at her. Look at him. Look at those people. They’re alone and have nobody. They’re in terrible relationships. They’re so unhappy. It could be worse. That could be me. Except, it is me. I’ve been unhappy.
