But then I remind myself that I had none of that. It was all an illusion. It was a fantasy I was holding onto. It is what I had hoped marriage would be.
I now have deeper conversations with my coffee cup every morning than I ever did with my ex-husband. He didn't want to talk about anything where I didn't already agree with him or any topic where he perceived me as smarter than him.
Whenever we visited his parents, we had the exact same conversation every single dinner. We would spend an inordinate amount of time raving about the simple lettuce salad we were eating, the same salad each meal. It was always the best salad. In hindsight, it really represents the level of depth to all their conversations. That is where my ex-husband's comfort level was, a level that was deeply unsatisfying to me. That was all the conversation I came home to.
So when I strip away the illusion, I ask myself, is there really anything left to miss? Sure, I'm left with the quiet of my studio apartment but most moments that quiet is a positive, so it’s only increasingly rare moments where it feels too quiet. Since his absence, I've actually developed so many relationships that have depth so I'm finally actually mostly meeting that need of mine. And I now have at least four people who will gladly check in on me and track my location when I need someone to care that I made it home safely.
And let's be honest, I never really had a partner to share in decision making. He was a hindrance more than a help. I had to navigate his ego while still bearing the brunt of coming up with the best plan. Decisions are actually easier now.
And all the work I have been doing building a community is resulting in a wealth of people who think about me and consider me.
What a weird dissonance to miss an illusion when the reality of today is infinitely better than the reality at the time of that illusion.
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