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  • For over a year now, I have been running away from my husband. His touch, his presence, his smell made me vomit.

    He literally made me sick.

    I've been talking to God and Jesus a lot lately. "Jesus, really?" I've been asking. Because life with this man has become absolutely intolerable.

    Today, around seven p.m., Frazier returned from his week of administrative police training in Dallas. He swiftly changed clothes and announced in his own quiet way that he was leaving. He was going to the hospital because he hadn't felt well the past two weeks. He had a weak bladder and unquenchable thirst.

    He also had a soda in one hand. A beverage I rarely drink nor allow my children to have.

    And he smelled like cigarettes. An opiate I neither smoke nor buy.

    At 12:04 this morning, he sent a text from the Veteran's Hospital where he'd been in a waiting room almost three hours:

    "I am diabetic."

    image: the universal symbol of diabetes.

    Oddly enough, I've never been so relieved.
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