Perfect or supposedly perfect relationships ruined by the little oversight, the slight omission. A glossing over of the truth. Maybe if we could all just find ways to talk to each other the world would be a bit simpler. But it's not is it. It's just that sometimes the little things hurt more than the big ones. When your husband denies your identity, denies who you are, denies everything that made you the person he fell in love with, it would seem like a big thing to the casual observer. But to you perhaps it seems like a little thing,maybe because it comes in a flippant remark not a grandiose statement. Maybe it's in a casual mention to a stranger, or just in a passing conversation. The little worms that gnaw at your heart slowly but surely. It's always in the little things.
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