Standing in my kitchen, making three jars of overnight oats and it hits me. This is me now. There's a version of me from months ago, maybe less than four or five and there's a version of me that's mentally going through a grocery list for his meal prep and anticipating his run/workout tomorrow. This is the version of me that I'm ashamed you didn't get to meet. Not that it would have prevented anything; there were issues on your end, my end, all wrapped up together that were going to show eventually. No, it's more like, I quietly get a pang when I look back on all of the partners I've had, the ones where I really felt something. It's because the more I grow and better myself the more I feel bad that whatever iteration of me they received was nothing compared to this one. The paradox lies in me never achieving these improved variants without going through each situation. Or maybe there's someone out there where I'll grow and grow and grow and look over and smile because I'll see that we're growing together instead of apart. It feels like I'm always apart.
