And sometimes, the most loving thing two people can do is sit at the same table and admit that both lives matter.
Ben hadn’t brought me to Oregon.
I hadn’t followed him there.
We had built a new life together.
And perhaps that was the real lesson hidden inside everything that happened.
The problem had never been Oregon.
It had never been his career.
It had never even been the job.
The real problem was that Ben had been trying to carry our entire future alone.
And I had been so used to making room for him that I didn’t realize I had stopped asking for any room of my own.
We didn’t fix our marriage by choosing his dream.
We fixed it by making sure neither of us had to disappear for the other person to have one.
And this time, when Ben came home before sunset, I didn’t think about how much room I needed to make for him.
I simply moved my chair closer to the table.
Because now there was room for both of us.
