The greatest love story Never told

remember the beautiful moments too. The big house, painting alongside his sister. All the cats with their food bowls scattered around, Mrs. Kitty almost knocking the tower over. The way he would play guitar for me in the back of our van. The moonshine we’d drink on cold nights, huddled together for warmth.

I remember the flea market dates, lunches at the dog park, my cousin’s graduation, and the windmills in Indiana. The tiny snapping turtle we found when we worked at Citi Stop. The day Wilson came home, so small and fragile. Our first move to South Carolina — how magical it felt — the trailer and the rain.

All these memories compel me to stay, to believe in a stronger future. But like a disease, our troubles have spread and caused damage wherever we’ve gone. He couldn’t stop, and I couldn’t say no.

I’ve spent years being pushed into things I never imagined myself doing, and I’m disgusted by some of the choices I’ve made — with friends, family, and my partner. Now, I stand at an impasse, forced to choose which way to go.