Maybe this would all be easier if I had no heart.

If I didn't love her more than I ever thought I could love. If, every time I think about leaving her, I didn't get a memory in my head. A memory of lying in bed with her, my hand on that spot just above her hip. The spot she hated me to touch, because it either made her feel fat or tickled.

Maybe this would be easier if I could leave her now but still have forever with her, too.