Leaving brought fear, but also freedom. I moved into a small apartment by the beach, changed my routines, rediscovered joy, and felt lighter than I had in years. My children noticed the difference immediately—I was finally choosing myself.
A year later, I found love again with someone who listened, noticed, and walked beside me. This story isn’t about divorce; it’s about neglect. Love requires action. In the end, I chose peace over habit, presence over history—and I have no regrets.
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