Managing the Less That’s Left

I miss the ‘us’ that held both of us up, and held each other, supported us, and held each other together (I miss not having to do that alone, selfishly for myself, and miss not feeling you lean on me because you also needed exactly that same thing from me).
I love (and regret, and sometimes even wish I could forget all of the) times we’ve spent together…that we still spend together?

Sometimes I think I want to sell our house (a gesture to abandon the lingering memories of that lost old promise of our ‘home’…the home used to be ‘us’ and the house was just where we planned to put that).

I’ve been thinking about getting a place on my own (the shell of what’s left here weighs so heavy and feels like twice as much work fueled by half as much love…our ‘plenty’ used to seem so infinitely enough).

I think about the cats (I think about admitting that we fucked up and we just can’t go back…I admit that I fucked up, but that admission isn’t an action I can, or we can take to make things better).

I want to work for the best happiness, for all of us (I know I can imagine and write dozens of sad endings to our story, but I don’t want the sad or the ending).

I don’t want to sell our house (I don’t want to lose/have-lost our home, our ‘us’…but I feel like I’m being asked/offered-an-ultimatum to commit to your new dream, a dream where I’m becoming a footnote: rarely referenced, rarely noted, almost never celebrated…it hurts when you mock the things I’m still proud of).

I hope that we all, together, can write the story of our future together (it feels like we’ve stopped doing that, stopped even trying, and it’s hard not to feel like you’re fully engaged in doing that with someone else…writing your future together, without me).

For all that it’s selfish, I need that story, our story (I can’t write it alone, not without having to decide that writing it alone means living it without you).

I need ‘us’ to feel like more than a hesitantly-checked-box (but I’m just not ready to figure out life yet if that’s all we’ve become).

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