One thing that seems to be brewing in my psychosis is this idea that because you were so committed to your plot for revenge that you sacrificed years of happiness that you could have had instead by staying and being with me in America.
I’m not necessarily sure I believe in that, because for a long time, and even now I’m barely above the poverty line, and it doesn’t seem to matter (at least for now) how much I work, I’m still living paycheck to paycheck.
Of course if we did our due diligence and got a place or lived where I am now and were on two or fucking 3 incomes here life wouldn’t be horrible, but I am absolutely measuring our happiness in our immediate material wealth.
Or maybe you’d want to travel, and maybe I’d be a teacher, and maybe we wouldn’t have children, and maybe in those bygone years we could’ve saved enough to at least own an apartment somewhere.
I can’t go trusting and just blindly believing the hallucinations, I know that, you know that, but these little, fragments of “what if” storylines, they nag me, and ever so slightly pull at my heart strings.