This is not where I thought I would be, I am not the person I thought I would be, I am not doing the things I thought I would be doing, I don’t live like I thought I wanted to.

Last year, last decade, when I got out.

I thought I would be a strong, safe, content person, making decisions that made my life and others better. Contributing, being something, or at least feeling some value. Connecting with others.

Not carrying that person, not being controlled by history, not hating.

What a farce. Where is the purpose, apart from routine and not dying.

Once E goes, there will be one less reason to stay connected, one that means something to me.