51% plus one, that is. Delayed gratification is a simple concept, yet a tedious and nearly impossible task. I have asked for clarity and I'm afraid that I have it now. My left hand has lost the white ring of flesh where my rings once rested. I sleep in the middle of the bed now. I lost the awareness of time when he usually calls me at work. There are so many things that have already slipped away.
I've developed enough tolerance to the sour words that I can speak them. It is in my own disappointment that everyone has responded with such relief. If just one person tried to convince me this is not what I should do, I would probably take back everything I said.
I suppose it is a post mark for adulthood with this decision. I am finally disconnecting myself from the deterministic hold that shackles my will.
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