The Shared Story Bonus – Thoughts on (not) BeingPart of a Couple I

One reason to live as a couple – I dare assume – is to have that one person everything to share with.
To share your whole life with (even if only for a while)
- all the tiny aspects, all the changes and developments, the joys and fears and contradictions, the infinite accumulation of moments that make you… -
the one person to share (and thereby experience) your life as a whole.

The one person to narrate your life, to form a story out of all the restless, loose, unconnected aspects of a lifetime’s experience.
Someone who tells the story of your past, right up till the very moment and into the future.
Your story’s told without anyone talking.

Presenting yourselves as a couple performs a story already.
You‘ve met; you‘ve gotten to know each other; you started a relationship; you share your lives. Your lives split into „before“ and „ever since“ (and maybe „after“).

I don‘t have that one person to share my whole life (up to the very moment) with; not the one to create, narrate my story.
I have many stories. There is no one to put the entity of everything I was, experienced, lived through, am, will be into a handy narrative.
There are lots of different variations, valid all and each of them; there’s no fixed story, no fixed me to rely on, to rest at, to conserve.
There’s a lot of mes.

I, seemingly, tell other stories then.
I tell the story of the one going to the Pub by herself.
People read different stories in me – what they wish or fear and find contrary to their stories, I guess.
They find stories of independence (which is impossible to feel myself, if not opposed to others‘ stories or past experience).
They find stories of courage in the way I live my life (which I don‘t feel ’cause I never did “choose” between options of living, I do it the only way I can).
They see stories of loneliness or incompleteness as well (which I of course do feel sometimes, but is there anyone who doesn‘t?).

The multiplicity of stories is just limited by imagination.
Cause there are endless interpretations of a lifetime’s experience (plus unknown more to add up).
Infinity’s sometimes scary. ‚course it is.
No one will decide, confirm which one is/will be the story to tell about your life – and all of them are equal valid.
You never can be sure how the future will change the story of your past.
You‘ll never know what you did right, what you did wrong
and how to be sure about it.

Well, I have a lot of stories. And living in all of them.
Welcome to my worlds.