I talk but seems he just can't hear a thing. Maybe because he such a decent man who can come close to ever imagining anyone doing such things to people let alone children, he just tunes it out. He never responds or gestures. My world of horror is foreign to him. I try not to talk about it but it bombards me. I live in different decades all the time, all the time now.
I know he loves me. Just sometimes I feel like I live alone and it's difficult not take it personal.
I know he loves me. Just sometimes I feel like I live alone and it's difficult not take it personal.