How do we share a space, a moment, a slice of life together and see the nature of that shared experience so differently? Words pass between two people, a look, a touch, a gesture of kindness, an act of sympathy. Time passes and they call themselves a couple, begin and end each other’s day, fill the time in between together. In subtle ways, in big ways, in ways knowable and unknowable, the balance is overturn and in a blink of an eye all love is lost. In one person, all those shared things planted the seeds of commitment to hold on to, to replenish the love, in the other, nothing had grown.

In the midst of all-encompassing intimacy, how can there still be fundamental disconnectedness?

How does one then let go of a love while maintaining one’s dignity? For it isn’t as simple as accepting that something is lost forever. It feels as if it also requires accepting that one’s faith was misplaced, that for a time, one believed in a lie. Or perhaps, the whole of it is about putting your best foot forward, that there are no lies only dead-ends.