Whenever I meet someone friendly with a good heart, and see that they are smitten with me, and start thinking that this may be more important than overall chemistry in the long run, preferable to the loneliness that sticks to my bedsheets like humidity and keeps me awake into the early hours of the morning, I am struck by the memory of my ex-husband, who adored me utterly and unconditionally, who, to this day, is by far the kindest and most gentle-hearted man I’ve ever known. And then I also remember the day I looked out from the balcony over the bay in San Francisco, and said to myself that I could never leave him unless I would rather die alone than live out my days this way, would rather perpetual solitude to the companionship of this simple, safe union, irregardless of his goodness.
Tonight it struck me that I have never, once, even for a moment, regretted that decision. For even half a breath. If I could go back, I would make the same decision, over and over and over again.
And that is how I keep going.