I've come to realize life is not about love with someone

As we drove back from lunch, I realized that I missed calling him "mine", but wanted to continue not being called "his".

I asked for time, as I always do. To figure things out, to let everything filter and sort itself out. I packed up bits of my life in make-shift mason jars- enough to see through but keep packed in. I told him once that I kept everything, read every day and thought. But it became too much.

It's for the better. It's not the love that dies out, but the strain of "time" and placement in life right now. Like a puzzle, we had to punch the piece in. Now, I'm working for effortless.

[I Want to Be Well- Sufjan Stevens]