"Why do you stay?"
Even I wonder about that sometimes. Why do I stay? I’m not sure if it’s because I’m being selfish—or if it’s me trying to be stubbornly selfless. Am I simply staying by his side just because I know that he’s vulnerable, that his heart is weak and it needs the warmth she doesn’t, and cannot, give? Am I staying because I am waiting for a spot to open up for me? Am I treating his heart like a parking lot? Am I staying because I want to take advantage of the fact that he’s being ripped apart by the one he loves? Because I want to be the one that patches him back up afterwards?
"I’m not sure I’m staying for the right reasons. Maybe I’m staying for the wrong ones," I reply after giving it much thought. "Or maybe I only need one reason. And that reason may neither be good nor bad, but it’s enough, I think. It’s enough. It’s enough to know that I can be here when he’s having a rough day. It’s enough to know that when he can’t turn to anyone about her, he can always turn to me. And that’s reason enough for me to stay."