Caring Less… Breaking Free

Brad just disappeared, after we’ve been fighting all day.
I’m trying not to care, and my not caring act almost feels genuine.

I mean why the fuck would I care? Where could he possibly be that it would matter?

He’s home now, I think, and I’m almost disappointed he’s back.

Maybe he isn’t. Doesn’t matter.

He could be with any woman in the world, or man, for all I care… doing anything his imagination can dream up. How does it affect me? It doesn’t need to. I am not him, and he is not me. Well, we are each other, but no more than I am anybody else.

God, I hope he connects with someone… and find himself, in any mirror but me. And then in another mirror, and then another. It’s time for us to balance out. Codependent monogamy doesn’t look good on anyone.

An older woman at a polyamory meetup once told me one day I wouldn’t need to know where he was, who he was with or what he was doing. I think that day is finally here, and it feels so freeing.

I’m finding myself and embracing my simultaneous aloneness and everythingness.

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