He tried to spin it like it was no big deal. He said he was “just being supportive.” That I should understand. And for a moment, I almost gaslit myself into thinking maybe I was being unreasonable.
Was I overreacting? Being too emotional? But he had made a choice—and he didn’t choose me. Not when it mattered. Not when I needed him most.
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Now everyone has an opinion. My mom tells me to let it go, that men are just weird about medical stuff. Some friends say it was bad timing. Others say I should move on. But honestly?
I don’t know what’s worse anymore—the physical pain from surgery, or the emotional gut-punch of realizing the one person I thought I could depend on completely crumbled in a crisis. Now I’m healing—from the inside out. And I can’t shake the growing realization that the cancer they removed might not have been the only thing that didn’t belong.