she's just not an easy one to quit

can't seem to get back into a writing routine. half of my life is still in boxes. the other half lives in an apartment 5 miles away.

the kids seem to love it here, though. they're settling in, making their mark. even the dogs seem more at ease than before.

and it's a great house. it is. i feel safe and comfortable here. and we're really really lucky, i know, to have found such a great place in such a short amount of time, with me not even working. believe me, i get that we're being watched over. i do.

and it is all coming together. slowly but surely. trinket by trinket. and feeling more and more like a home every day. and it's good. and it's bad. because it's still missing her. us.

and although we see her nearly every day, it's not the same. of course it's not. she's not here when we go to sleep. and she's not here when we wake up. she's not here in the middle of the night when i hear a strange noise. she's not here when there's a stranger knocking on the door. she's not here when i wake up crying in the middle of the night and reach, still, for the other side of the bed.

but the kids have transitioned surprisingly well. they sleep through the night, which is always a good sign. and they sooo look forward to seeing her. and it's in those moments when i question whether or not i made the right decision (and there's a pretty constant stream), that the look on their faces when they hear her come thumping around the corner in her car, or they see her coming up the walk from their bedroom window, or she rings the doorbell and they immediately run off to play hide and seek with her before she's even stepped inside, is all i need for confirmation.

sort of.

because we're getting along better than either of us could've hoped for, i think. it's become easy and comfortable again. feels almost normal again, as much as i loathe that word. but i have this constant dread in the pit of my stomach. waiting, waiting, waiting...for the other shoe to drop. for my feet to be swept out from under me. for it all to go away. again.

i don't want to rely on her for anything, to look to her for anything, to need or want or wish for anything at all from her. because the risk of disappointment is just too great, and i'm just a little tapped out in that department.

but she's not an easy one to quit.

because the thing is that we're such a huge part of one another's lives, have been each other's best friend for so long, that's it's such a natural place to gravitate to. and right there, right there is the danger, of course. because the reasons that we're not together anymore still do exist. and the fact that they're buried under boxes, and aching, and fresh starts, and longing, and new lives, and sadness, and glimmers of lights at the end of tunnels doesn't make those reasons any less real.