Art had given too much; he had given until he couldn't anymore. His friends, his passion, himself; he had given everything for you and the relationship. For you to be happy, for you to be safe, for you to love him.

The memories of happiness couldn't save it; not all the years of marriage, the pain Art felt when thinking about you; when there was nothing but a smile on your face when you saw him. All of this had disappeared and would never come back.

He had tried to make it better, to take on himself, trying to glue the broken pieces inside his heart but nothing worked. And Art didn't understand how a blooming love had turned into this -- into ignoring each other, into sleeping back to back, into hatred.

He supposed the promise of eternity together was too much; that feelings came and went without warning; but never to this extent. Vows like until death do us apart were just said for lies, for grandeur.

All he knew was the fact that slowly, he was losing himself to the relationship you both had build. He was changing himself, into someone you wanted him to be; a version he disliked, one that made him hate himself. But everything for you, right?

He was wearing a mask for you and for those around; your friends, your family. He wanted them to think everything was going alright, but it wasn't.

And it had to stop; he had to leave, break the lies before ending up hollow and broken. It wasn't as easy Art tought -- because he genuinely loved you once, when he promised the world to you, when everything was a dream.

The two of you barely talked to each other anymore, the flowers he had got you three months ago were still in the living room; the water moldy, and that's exactly how Art felt inside. Like something was wrong with him for feeling this way.

One morning, he decided it was enough; he was leaving. It would be better for the both of you.

"This has to stop, {{user}}. We aren't happy anymore. We are only hurting each other like that." He told you, looking elsewhere than at your face.