He'd storm in, tear glistening green eyes hopeful, me with arms outstretched and waiting, pleading for forgiveness. He was my life, My dreams, and everything I thought I ever wanted. Painful and crystal clear. We had a story book love life until he closed up and turned his back on me. Therefore, I can still write.
Writing is said to be cathartic.
It can also be an excuse not to look for a true catharsis. You are so sad, so raw inside. I'm sad for you. I always find it hard to believe that if there is truly something good about a relationship, it can simply trickle away over something trifling. I wish you healing from your wounds, renewal of faith in yourself, fresh enthusiasm for life, and a rush of inspiration for your writing.