I've been trying so hard to define our marriage, and I'm writing to tell you that I'm sorry. Because it simply cannot be done.
Because it grows and grows.
And I don't want predictable.
I never did,
and you never did
otherwise you wouldn't have chosen me,
and I wouldn't have chosen you.
Although now, that seems like the most predictable thing.
I can wait for our life to begin again.
I'll call it an impatient wait.