I’m sitting alone on the side of a favorite local trail. I’m tired. I’ve been crying. My head aches, and I am in a pretty grim place, emotionally. I’m also grateful to be here, now, rather than having this moment as the woman I was 11 years ago. Yes, it’s fucking hard. Yes, I’m pretty g’damned unhappy right now, but… I can also recognize that this is simply a moment. It will pass. The future is unwritten. The trail ahead isn’t always within view.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I rather stupidly try to will my tinnitus to quiet down. No surprise that doesn’t work.

My Traveling Partner’s surgery went very well and he’s home resting and continuing to recover.

The drive home was emotionally difficult, and ended on an unpleasant note. The actions leading there were mine, so the fault is mine as well. (Hard to hold someone who just had surgery and is deeply medicated “responsible” for much of anything at all, whatever the circumstances.) By the time we got home I didn’t really want to interact with other human beings. I’ve been in pain all day, no end in sight, and I am tired and still kind of angry, though, as I said, how is someone so heavily medicated responsible for their words or behavior at all? Why would I be angry? I don’t think they can be held to everyday standards for sure. Accommodations must be made. Understanding and compassion are required. Forgiveness is a good approach. But… That has to include…for me, from me.

… It’s been so very worrying for so long to see my partner suffering, I probably needed to prepare for this moment quite differently somehow…

I sigh out loud, my ears ringing so loudly it seems certain I am missing other information. I promise myself to get my hearing checked. My back aches in spite of medication. (The chairs at the hospital are not sufficiently comfortable for an all day stay.) I’m tired and the walking isn’t satisfying. I’m just going through the motions. Literally.

My Traveling Partner pings me. I respond promptly; I still have responsibilities. I think about the woman I most want to be. What would she do, right now? I sigh again and get to my feet. She’d begin again.