"I can't recall how long I've been sitting here in the kitchen table for, what is wrong with me?"I think out loud as I stare at the cup of coffee in front of me. The steam of the coffee has stopped rising since, and the liquid now feels cold.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair as my mind continues to replay the events of the past few days. I had thought things are starting to change with Michael, but now I'm not so sure.
Michael's words echo in my mind: "I don't know if I can ever be the man you want me to be." i had been so hopeful that he is starting to open up, that he is finally letting me in. But every step forward seems to be followed by two steps back. It is like trying to walk on shifting sand—every time i think that I have found solid ground, it crumbles beneath me.
