New year, same story

Yet again, 10:50, sitting alone, not really giving a shit when the ball drops. It’s never been a thing, our thing. He gets to bed early and I enjoy the hour of quiet. I try not to be sad yet fight the loneliness with; it’s nothing personal, he’s an early riser, gotta get up early for kids. But year after year here I sit, bringing in the new year alone. …..don’t get married, butterflies dont last. Love always does, of course I love him and my family. But it’s a duty now, not an escape.