Things are very different now. My fears have become a reality, but even worse came the realization that my worst fear wasn't the worst thing that could happen. Worse than losing a love is losing a life, something prior thought impossible.
My writing is different now. Much more prosaic. I hadn't realized until now just how damaged I had become in a few short years. Long and short. The only important years of my life, I have the most memories of them, but so painfully, blindingly short.
And I don't mean that I'm damaged in a stereotypical tumblr romanticization post. I don't relish in that I function so much differently now. But I've learned to cope and I'm functioning. At least, I think I'm functioning. I don't have the emotional capacity to fully explore what all this means, whether this epiphany is legitimate or not, right now.
I had put "threats" in quotation marks, because they didn't exist to my relationship with Kai. And they still don't. But I am looking elsewhere. There's no need to disregard these proposed "threats" because there is nothing left to threaten.
I think about how things would be different if we had handled Chloe differently. Or had I been more commanding about Maddie. Or any number of any other things.
But I wasn't. Things played out how they played out, and this is the way things are set in time. There are ways to move forward in the future. I am the architect of my own life, my own existence. I could dedicate myself to the cause of her. But I won't. I am different now. I write differently. There are other soulmates out there for me.
Our line is etched, and we both hold separate ends of a two sided pencil. What we decide to do is up to us. Every decision means something. This is my life. This is what I choose to do with my life.
I'm in complete control but also have none. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to choose. Should I listen to the other list I found in my Google Docs? What does leaving entail?
There are different kinds of leaving.
