We went through all the cancer treatment. I was there every step of the way for him. Every chemo for 4 months, every doctor's appointment for 8 months, every surgery for 9 months. On April 11th he was told he looks to be cancer free. It really felt like a miracle. On April 12th he texted me at work letting me know he didn't want to live in that house anymore. He hated being in the downstairs bedroom. Fuck this and fuck that. It was just too much. The kids and I didn't even go home that day we just headed to my parent's house. Cancer didn't change him at all. For 5 or 6 weeks before that, he was already starting to act like a dick again. I secretly hoped he would realize through this process that we were special, that he had been pissing his life away, that he wanted to fight for us, that any job is a good job because you are doing something and contributing to the world, that spending time with us and having fun with us was worth it. You know how people talk