I make no accusations. I'm genuinely curious. If he knows he'll answer. Doesn't matter if he tells us either. Only important he knows. Life is complex. Feelings are difficult. But until I recognize my own, I'm pissing in the proverbial wind.
I can't tell him what he's about any more than he can tell me about myself. What I think? The more I figure out my happy, the less what someone else does matters.
That feels like all I can handle.
Some people once said this and even if they could never imagine the changes, still put it prominent in declaration. I don't know how to say it better. I imagine we all agree.