I won’t miss the mood swings. The grumpy expressions. The sullen silence.
I won’t miss him falling asleep on the couch, the floor, the kitchen table, or the bed in the middle of a day because he is just “so tired”, even though he stayed up half the night reading about The Mystery of the Schmitta and other end-of-the-world conspiracies.
I won’t miss the way he says, “I hate the way you talk about this house!” when I tell the girls that I’m going to clean the floors because they haven’t been cleaned in a month.
I’m ready to be happy.
I’m ready to live in peace.
I just wish it could be with him.

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