by Sunday night I was exhausted. you had drained every hopeful part of me but told me I was crazy to not believe in the future. you told me not to worry but then you stole my patience, my sanity, my peace...yet treated me as though I was the thief. you told me to calm down, to stop over-reacting, to live more rationally, but how can you tell me my fears are irrational if I see them happening in front of my own eyes? I knew I wasn't enough for you anymore but you made me feel like I was too much to handle at the same time. too much emotion, too much fear, too much liability. You told me you felt like you had to walk on eggshells when you were around me even though I rolled out a carpet for you to walk on. I picked up the pieces and stuck them on my own feet so you didn't feel the pain. By monday night, you had told me you had bigger plans for your life. I said me too and detailed how you were gonna experience it with me. You said no, Shelby, its something I want to do on my own. So now I sit, relieved, knowing that my Tuesday is coming, even if you aren't going to be in it.