He was walking around in the dark upstairs. I heard voices, and thought it was our 4 year old son, getting out of bed. But I stopped to listen.

“I love you.” He said it 3 times during the conversation. And assured her that I had no idea; I was in the basement on the computer.

My knees came out from under me. When he started down the stairs, he saw me sitting at the bottom.

I very seriously considered hanging myself in that stairwell later. Something in me had died there. Thank goodness for good friends, good counseling, and antidepressants.

Life goes on.