I still miss being known from inside a shared daily life

Dear Delyara, Not the fantasy. The shorthand. The person who already knows why that email matters, how the child has been this week, what kind of silence means leave me alone and what kind means come closer, how tired sounds in my voice before I’ve even admitted it. That kind of witness is harder to grieve than I ever understood while I had it. Now too much of my life stays untranslated by the time evening comes, because building the bridge from the beginning to another person takes energy I often don’t have left. That’s one of the loneliest things about divorce for me now — not the dramatic absence, but the daily lack of somewhere the day can land without full explanation.