I try really hard to manipulate and gaslight myself into just thinking I don't care but I do. I miss him everyday. This is a burden that I have been carrying for almost ten years now. I come home and sometimes I almost forget how much joy and soul he brought into the little dump I call home. I dont even know where he is today. I have been thinking about hiring a PI and try to contact him once more but I dont have the money for it. I locked away his room and everything but sometimes I relapse and I find myself going in there and just looking around, smelling his clothes, touching his books etc. The room hasn't changed at all, I preserve it. Its basically a museum to my babyboy. I just hope someday he comes back.
Early Retirement - have you, would you ?

