For more than seven years now, I’ve been living in a cage — but the cage always had an open door. I could fly away anytime I wanted.
But I didn’t want to leave the cage. I was waiting for a woman I loved. I was waiting for someone else to change. I lied to myself. I angrily told myself — at times — that I wasn’t waiting for her. But something in me believed — against all evidence — that she was going to be the love I needed. Any day now. And so I waited and waited, wasting years of my life.
I can admit that to myself now. What’s been harder to admit is that I’ve been making excuses for behavior that hurt me. I would have told anybody else that her behavior showed she didn’t care and wouldn’t care, not in the ways that her words had said she did.
But I needed to believe in her. I needed to believe in her love. So I made excuses for her.

You can change your story, but you first must throw away the old ones
Does change really come quickly? Or do we finally accept the truth?
When I die, what will I remember? Who won an election or who I loved?
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