Alka-Selkie

It doesn’t need to be carried further.

Yesterday I pondered how it would be today – knowing that today I would give my notice and begin to close this stressful chapter of my life.  Here I am on the other side of it and already the beasts that bay at my ankles seem hushed.  Still chasing, but they’ve slowed their pace.

The boss was not present today.  She had been flying around somewhere over the weekend – a fact that I may have been aware of, but did not register would impact me on Tuesday.  It is hard, at times, to register anything there.  Yet, today was a day of action so eventually, I got her on the phone and told her.  This…gave her a second of pause and then insta-delight on my behalf.  And that is how I shall take it and not linger on responses a moment longer.

Now, the countdown has begun.

Meanwhile, he jokes that I might set him aside.  That seems quite impossible now.  I still think of the RP’er, the road not taken, the life not lead, the role that can no longer be performed and feel regret.  Though it is not this piercing, gasping knot of pain.  It is more a curiosity that lingers.  A why can’t I just…?  And then I remember, that oh, there would be a lie between us.  There would be something unshared, that I would be experiencing with someone else, there would be an alteration of the good faith.  I’d be another woman who didn’t tell him the truth.  I do not want that.   I do not want to feel the way that would feel.  It would deflate and destroy any kick I’d get out of telling the story with this other person.

Really, I have to figure out the way to say what I want.  I’m getting there.  Closer.  I’m still learning about him while he goes to great pains to excavate my brain.  To understand how I think, as though that’s something he can accomplish in a few weeks when it’s been the work of my lifetime.

He calls me beautiful in a beautifully manic sort of way where after a litany of information and stories about super hero universes and minutiae he has sewn together into something greater than the sum of its parts, all with increasing speed as his mind clicks along, suddenly he’ll stop and say it.  You are really beautiful.  It throws me every time.  He thinks I have to chase men off with a stick.  It makes me laugh, not ruefully, as I once imagined would always be required, but just a laugh that says this is the year when assumptions are no longer valid.  And maybe he’s right in his way.  And maybe it only happened because I stopped fighting it.

So, here we are.  Brave new world.

 

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