For most of my life I lived with the fantasy that if only I had a different lover everything would be better. Where salvation isn't so much an activity of one's own but rather an intervention from without — a rescue — as if I were locked in a prison of my own making but someone else controlled the key.

I don't have that fantasy now.

I don't want a rescue. I just want to be alone. Left to rest, recuperate, reconnect with my own life.

I know that's not possible. I took on this commitment. I will uphold my responsibility.

But I am exhausted, and injured, and terribly sad.