Agency is a funny word.
So is Compromise. 
Martyrdom is A Hat I wish to Remove for a while.
Happiness is hemp bracelet I shall now wear, even in the shower. Even in the rain.

After rain comes the rainbow. After rain comes the rainbow.
The rain can be beautiful.
Let the rain wash away the poison, the sadness, the memories.

Leave me the good ones.
But, you see, you have to pick and choose those from the shattered heap that was your love.
Look at what you’ve done. 
Look at what you’ve broken.
You want to hold onto the good memories?
If you can find them in the rubble, they’re yours.
But I’ll probably say, “I told you so,” when you cut your hand.

Mosaics are nice.
Newly created pieces of art made from recycled garbage that has been crushed because it no longer needed to serve its purpose.
Where am I going with this?
I no longer need this version of your love, so I’m going to shatter it and eventually piece it back together into a haphazard collection of jagged bits. 
What have I done?

I have done what I needed to do to be happy.
Maybe happiness will be with you.
But I need to know that.
I need to have seen all the options,
calculated all the outcomes,
anticipated all the catastrophes

and if I think I’ve done that, 
calculated the appropriate algorithms
to deduce that you are the best possible gamble 
based on the best possible odds
in this incredibly unknown terrain called Life

That you are The One I Want To Be With
then I promise you I will drop everything I’m doing and get my ass to where you are
But until then, I have some living I need to do
For Me
I don’t know what it looks like
Except I know it doesn’t have you.

Thank you for giving me the space I have asked for.
I am holding you in the Light.