Member-only story
Relationships/Love
Letting Go of The Fantasy of Us
Slipping Through My Fingers.
When did I start believing the lies I told myself about our future?
Perhaps it was the nights I lay in bed alone, wanting you beside me. It could have been all the fun times we had touring museums, strolling through parks, and searching for pork buns downtown. It may have been the first day I met you and was amazed by who you are.
When we first started seeing each other, I asked you not to share your daydreams. “They hurt too much,” I said. I was on the money with that thought. Too bad I didn’t listen to my advice. I took my daydreams to create my reality — where everything worked out, and we were together.
Which was far worse on me instead.
In the beginning, we were both married. So, a future was unlikely. We never made promises. We did not meet more than the time and money allowed. Our love was secret except to the special few who knew. Our affair didn’t feel like something temporary because we worked on it day and night. We gave each other everything we had.
Until that wasn’t enough for me.
Once I was officially divorced, my imagined future demanded to be set free. Those daydreams were my…
