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Roseanne

It feels like days since I've seen Lisa and it hasn't even been twenty-four hours. Jennie and Tae took me out last night, but even they couldn't cheer me up. She'll be back tomorrow. It's pathetic how badly I want to beg her to come home tonight instead.

It will be an unpleasant day on so many fronts, I think, as I pull into the driveway of the house I shared with Jaehyun. It's probably the last time I'll ever come here, but what makes me unhappy right now is the fact that I wound up here in the first place. I never wanted this house. I never wanted the furniture we bought. I never wanted to live in the suburbs. The thrilling part of being in D.C., after my years on the farm, was how lively it was. I loved that I could walk to restaurants, that I never had to drive anywhere if I didn't want to. It was Jaehyun who wanted what we had, and I gave up everything again and again, without a fight. It's almost as if I was scared to ever want anything of my own too much.

I walk back into my former home, uncertain where to start. It would be frugal for me to take some of the furniture, but I really don't want it. I go through the kitchen and find that I don't really care about anything there either, even though I purchased most of it myself. They were supposed to's. Because you're supposed to have a fancy cappuccino machine, even though I rarely drink cappuccinos. You're supposed to have the panini press, the salad swiveler. They were things I chose in an attempt to fill the hole in my life, but it was like pouring water into a pit made of sand...far too soon the space it took up siphoned into nothing and left me empty again.

I move to the closet instead, carefully folding the clothes I wore to work, the T-shirts I bought on sale at the J Crew outlet or Ann Taylor Loft. After about ten minutes I dump them out of my suitcase and put them in a bag of donations.

I'm not taking anything into my new life with Lisa that I don't absolutely love.

The suits go, as do the blouses, the heels I spent too much on but never wore because they killed my feet. I throw in the pantyhose, the slips, the worn, old bras I held onto for no reason other than frugality. Jennie was right when she said I'd spent my life cowering. From my career choices to my boyfriend to the clothes I wore, my whole life has been about shrinking myself, trying to become less than what I was because it felt like the safest course. With Lisa it no longer seems necessary.

In the end it only takes two suitcases and a few boxes to hold every single thing I actually love: my favorite jeans, my softest sweaters, the dresses and shoes I can't live without. A few books, a few photos. It's astonishing, and depressing, that in a two-bedroom home crammed with stuff, I loved and wanted so little. All of it fits tidily in the trunk of my car. I think I had more stuff in the college dorm room I shared with Jennie than I have right now.

I arrange for the bags of clothes I'm giving away to be picked up, and I'm in the process of dragging the last one outside when Jaehyun turns into the driveway. I freeze, rooted to the spot as if I've been caught breaking in. I wasn't really scared of him before, not the way Lisa thought I should be. Now I realize how foolish that was. There's no reason for him to be home today at all—and certainly not at this hour—unless he somehow knew I was here.

He climbs from the car, stalking toward me with narrowed eyes. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Inside, I quake, but I refuse to let him see it. "Why aren't you in Harrisonburg?" I counter.

"What's the point?" he asks. "I was only at that job because of you. And you didn't give a shit."

The guilt trip he's given me over the jobs he's held here is getting a little old. It's not like I pushed him, and in fact with his current job I lobbied against it because it was such a bad fit. "I never asked you to take that job."

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