there's something entirely reassuring about sleeping in a twin bed with two tiny little people who you love more than life itself. there's something terribly disconcerting about the similarities between divorce (this one) and high school (mine). i'm scared that even in the tiniest way this woman will take my place where my kids are concerned, that she'll grow into something more than a whore who buys my daughter disney princess chapstick. i'm embarrassed that i've waffled between bravado and shame and haven't been able to just own this outright. what if i've gotten in over my head? what if i've been nothing more than a reaction to my circumstances? what if my identity has always been tied to my experiences? i want something tangible and not forced. i'm comfortable un-partnered, have finally allowed myself to acknowledge that i even prefer it. i'm more than the sum of all the assumptions about me but i'm not above gossip. and i'm not above spilling secrets and i'm not above guilt and i'm not above anything i guess. i stood up for myself today and told him that even if he lies i will continue to act with integrity. he admitted that i've behaved like an adult and he hasn't. it was never about italy or cohabitation or or or it was about lies and me not reacting like a crazed bitch. it's out of my hands. it's out of my control. all i can do is change how i react and throw him off balance. some days things feel so on, some days things feel so out of sink. i'm having trouble remembering my direction. what were my plans for life? what was derailed? was i so much part of a couple that i was just carried along by the marital current of weeding and shopping and laundering and camping? where does he end and where do i begin? i'd like to go back to removing water marks from the wooden stools. back to harassing the drycleaner for stains on our bedspread. back to university where i am 18 and 19 and 20 and admiring the way my civil war diamond makes rainbows in calculus and 21 and admiring the way it feels to have a baby kicking from the inside and 22 and a square for not drinking but it was still funny then, not something worth leaving over. and now i'm almost 26 which isn't old in anyone's book and i'm not simply survived cancer (check), married with children (check), left for another woman (check), struggling to hold it all together (check), making chocolate (check) and instead of having all of my eggs in one basket i've gotten them all so spread out i can't remember where i put them.