His storms were never yours to calm.

You spent two years on him. You were trying to love someone the best way you knew how. But those red flags you kept explaining away? They were real. You saw them. You just worked overtime trying to make them make sense.

You told yourself if you were a little kinder, a little more patient, a little less tired from your own life, things would settle. That his moods would soften if you just got it right.

But his storms were never yours to calm.

Those red flags were never yours to repaint, to fix, or to carry. And he was never a project you were meant to complete.

If I could reach back through time, I wouldn’t hand you better tools to manage him.

I’d take your hand and say, simply:

You can leave.