Hoping for miracle

I told him that I wanted a divorce today. It hurt him, or maybe there are more things that hurt him. I know.

We were both hurting, physically and emotionally from what have happened. And as much as I am hurting, I would lowered down my ego and go back to him. Little do I know, that will only hurting us more.

I wish I know what lies in his heart. Tho sometimes action speaks louder. But how can I know his heart, when I barely spell out mine which shattered.

The night when I throw my cloths and insisted to run away from home. He sleep infront of the door. I cried. And I still cry every night.

I miss my family, I miss my friends. And I feel bad for him, my husband. He’s so young, and so am I. When I thought being independent is being matured, I was absolutely wrong. I could let a smallest mistake slips, and I keep finding fights for his attention. Tho he provided me with enough.

Im tired. Exhausted, and I know he is too. I miss his laugh, his hand holding me like he used before when we rarely met back in 2016. I miss his big smile. I miss everything that we have been through as a husband and wife.

No, my heart doesn’t want for a divorce. But my brain do.

And most of the time, it would be my heart who win this.

Im hoping for a miracle to save my own heart.

Your own lovable self, aila.


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