setting the table

I'm wondering what this little college town means to me. Obviously I moved here for him. I was thinking it was a perfect life for writing, living simply, a sense of uncomplicated stability. But really, a great deal of it was him.

But what would happen if he dissolved from it all? What do I do? Instinctively I would try and reclaim this place, this town, and recast this life - sort of like grabbing the edges of a tablecloth and violently shaking it so the plates, the silverware, the glasses and crumbs, would be thrown off. After everything is broken I'd sweep it all away, and then find my own things to place on the newly smoothed over linen.

I don't want to do that. I don't want to develop reasons to do that. It's difficult, though.

I feel as if I'm now living some kind of deal. The slightest deviation on my part from the terms nullifies it and then he'll make an issue and demand it all void. Just so he can go back to doing whatever he wants that upset me regularly. And I'll throw my little fits again as rebellion. Is that what a relationship is? I thought I had learned a few things, but it looks like I'm still learning.