I Can't Breathe. I Just Need 60 Seconds of Silence.

I'm sitting in my car in a parking lot. It's been 48 hours. I feel like my chest is going to collapse.

It wasn't the affair. It was the absolute, total, perfect lie he built. The calmness in his eyes when he told me I was 'losing it.' The way he laughed and hugged me when I apologized for questioning him.

I don't know who I am, where I live, or what my future is. Everything I believed in, everything I built, is just dust. I look at my hands, and they are shaking, but I don't know what to do with them.

There is no plan. There is no hope right now. Just the terror of realizing I slept next to a stranger for ten years. I don't need advice. I just need to say this out loud where someone can see it, and then I have to start the car.

I just need someone to see my smoke signal. That's all.