The thing that gets me about the rocking chair fantasy is I don't want to sit beside someone who doesn't share my history. I don't want to learn his stories; I want to know them by heart. I want to interrupt and say, "No, it wasn't New Orleans; it was Las Vegas." I don't want to tell someone that I was once younger and cuter and smart and capable. I want someone who remembers when I was all of those things.
You're probably thinking that I'm melancholy and muddled in memories because my divorce is progressing. You would be correct.
Just because my divorce is the right thing doesn't make it hurt less.
I'm aware of the pain BUT sharing separate memories has been oh so healing. Don't count it out.
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