Shoes on in the house? “I just swept!”
Crumbs and dirty feet on the couch? “Oh good grief!”
“Be gentle!”
“Why didn’t you finish that in time?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong with me?”
In my mind. In my mind. In my mind.

Mostly unspoken, but sometimes SO urgent, so important.

Separate realities

I try, right now, to imagine what he thinks about what I do. It would go well here, in this piece.
Can’t even.
Who knows?
It doesn’t matter.
Completely irrelevant.

I’m the only one who can have my thoughts
He’s the only one who can have his thoughts.

Impermanent. Vapors. Wisps, these thoughts.

Meaningless.

Deep breaths find me; a releasing.

There is a deep abiding love and strength that is here. It was here all along. It is touching, holding, secure.

Separate realities

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