There I was, standing next to your grave with mixed feelings. On one hand, the pain that you were gone tore at every fiber of my existence, but then there was also this terrible relief that it was over. No more hurtful words or crying out when your fist delivered punishment. I could come home without fear. 

The doctors told me that your cancer made you aggressive. Maybe I was too hard on you and some of it was my fault like you had always claimed. No matter what, you were gone and left me to pick up the pieces. I would have to start anew, in a world that I had never wanted to face alone. Despite everything that happened, you found the easy way out.

The small hand of our daughter that found comfort in my own was a reminder that I had to carry on with a brave face. I mean, how to you tell your children that their dad was not so perfect after all? Did they have the right to know the dark side of you or should I keep the image of the loving father, the great husband, the archived professional alive? That's how the world had always seen you. No one knew the truth because we chose to keep the real us concealed behind closed doors.

As tears streamed down my cheeks, my heart was at peace. I knew I would survive this because that's how life works. We get strength from our setbacks and have to push forward no matter what. Only if we look forward can we leave behind our past. It's okay for the past to shape us, but it should never define our future. 

Having said that, I will probably never give love another chance. The fear that something could go wrong is too deeply rooted in me to ignore. Besides, a part of me will always love you no matter what, so it wouldn't be fair to give my heart to someone else if it was never meant to be his to begin with. Now I will try to let go, love. I hope your soul found peace in the end.