Maybe I really am the problem?

She’s already moved on. And moved on fast. I’m pretty sure it was going on between them when we were still living together.

I know my PTSD didn’t always make me the greatest to be around. But I tried. Maybe it really was too little, too late like she said.

All I can think about is her, and what went wrong. I know I contributed my fair share to the arguments. And started some. I know my anger got the best of me sometimes and I said some hurtful things.

She said I used my PTSD as an excuse. I didn’t mean to. All I said was that it can contribute to anger, especially in men, and that might be a contributing factor as to why things got as bad as they did. I sought treatment for it. She said it was too late. She’d already moved on it seems from the credit card charges for hotel rooms.

Why wasn’t I worth fighting for? Why wasn’t our family worth fighting for? I tried, so hard. And now I just feel empty and alone. I miss her.