By Sarah Ann
He walks away with a swagger. I want him to pause, but he marches into his future.
I don’t know how we got here. We were determined to win where others failed. Death and separation took many. We were never smug offering consolation, knowing we wouldn’t follow the same path. But we got lost.
We have flattened the grass with circular arguments; his need for adventure, my promises to change.
If you love somebody, set them free. So I have. I will get used to cooking for one and a half-empty fridge. And I’ll survive, longing for his return.