Sunday Night

This evening has been really hard, because Mike and I always spend Sunday night together. And currently he is giving me the silent treatment. The last time we spoke was when he called to ask me if he had eggs in his refrigerator - seriously. I feel so sad and alone and am desperately trying not to think about our happier times together. In the words of Meredith Grey:

Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop.