We had talked about blowing it all up for a long time. I’m talking years. “What would it be like if I just quit?” my husband would say after a run of stupid-long days and feeling like his work was never done, nor good enough. I usually said something slightly dishonest like, “Just do it then! I totally support you walking out tomorrow!”
But there was a part of me that could only say that knowing he wouldn’t actually take the leap.