Every fight the floor has settled.

Why do we teach children to share everything except the things adults most want to keep?

Should we keep throwing the same party every year just because stopping would mean admitting something is over?

Does a vow you made in a healthy body still bind you now that the body can’t keep it?

When is it right to stop keeping a promise that the other person forgot they ever asked for?

If I let this friendship quietly die instead of ending it out loud, am I being kind or just avoiding myself?

Does telling the truth after years of lying give you back the person you were, or just create a new kind of damage?

Is the house I keep refusing to leave home, or just the last place I still feel like myself?

When I realize I have been more devoted to being loved correctly than to loving well, what have I been calling a relationship?

When I realize I have been more devoted to the story of my life than to the actual living of it, what have I missed?

When I realize I have been more devoted to being forgiven than to actually forgiving, what have I been holding onto?

When I realize I have been more devoted to understanding my pain than to surviving it, what have I been doing in there?

When I realize I have been more devoted to being ready than to actually beginning, what have I been rehearsing for?

When I realize I have been more devoted to being good than to being real, what have I been protecting others from?

When I realize I have been more faithful to my wounds than to my own healing, what have I been tending?

When I realize I have been more devoted to the relationship's survival than to the person inside it, what have I been saving?

When I realize I have been more devoted to my integrity than to the people my integrity kept hurting, what have I been worshipping?

When I realize I have been more committed to the idea of changing than to actually changing, what have I been doing with the time?

When I realize I have been more committed to being needed than to being loved, what have I been protecting?

When I realize I have been more devoted to fixing people than to actually being with them, what have I been calling love?

When I realize I have been more committed to my potential than to my actual life, what have I been living?

When I realize I have been more committed to my version of someone than to who they actually are, what have I been in relationship with?

When I realize I have been more devoted to being remembered than to being present, what have I actually been living for?

When I realize I have been more committed to my suffering than to its cure, what have I been getting from it?

When I realize I have been more devoted to being understood than to actually understanding, what have I been calling love?

When I realize I have been more generous with strangers than with the people I claim to love most, what is that?

When I realize I have been more afraid of being truly seen than of being truly alone, what have I been calling intimacy?

When I realize I have been confusing loyalty with the fear of who I become without it, what have I been faithful to?

When I realize I have been more alive in crisis than in calm, what does ordinary life owe me?

When I realize I have been the most honest with strangers, what does that say about everyone I stayed close to?

When I realize I have been mistaking movement for progress my whole life, what have I actually been doing?

When I realize I have been loved faithfully by someone I kept treating as temporary, what do I do with that?

When I realize I have been honest my whole life but never once said the hardest true thing, what have I actually been doing?

When I realize I have been grieving someone who is still alive, what exactly have I lost?

When I realize I have been kind mostly to avoid being blamed, does the kindness still count?

When I realize I have stopped being curious about my own life, is that peace or surrender?

When I catch myself hoping someone I love fails just enough to need me again, what am I?

When I realize I have been waiting for permission my whole life, who exactly was I waiting for?

When I finally admit I have been the difficult one, do I confess or just quietly become different?

When I watch someone suffer and do nothing, is my stillness cowardice or just honest helplessness?

When I finally belong somewhere, why does part of me immediately begin planning to leave?