Love, David

She finally left. After years of criticism and put downs, she was out of there. The space in front of her was filled with possibility. Her toxic boss would take some getting over. She knew she was capable and skilled at her work. But she could also hear the reproving voice "But are you actually good enough?"

Maybe the timing wasn't quite right for a career change. She had just spent some pretty good money on home renovations and they were planning to do more. But she had also won $20,000 on a scratch off ticket in her Christmas stocking. So she had that going for her.

Her partner David was a careful person. The kind of person who preferred consistent outcomes over unproven potential. She remembered their conversation from six months ago when she'd first talked about leaving her job. He approached the situation with a reasonable perspective.

"What is your plan? You make great money and work from home, our house will be paid off in three years. I thought we were going to both drop down to 0.8 after we paid off the house."

"Well you wouldn't commit to dropping down to 32 hours" she had reminded him.

"Tell me again why you want to leave your job."

"My boss is always cutting me down, he doesn't listen to me even though I'm the expert. He insults me when I know things he doesn't. Even though we've implemented my suggestions with consistent success and growth, he constantly challenges me in front of my colleagues to undermine me. It's really making me feel bad."

She fumbles around trying to express how hard it is to be filled with dread every day she has to work with him.

"I like my work, it's important and has so much potential for good, but he's too much and it's snuffing me out."

"Maybe you're the problem. You had an issue with your last boss too. The one I still work for. Since you've left, things have gotten much better for me and I don't really have problems anymore."

His words sucked the air from her lungs. It's never fun to see your hero persona vanish upon deeper inspection by the light of a loved one's reality. Maybe he didn't mean exactly what he said, he was just resisting change.

"That's not a reflection of me. You being a casualty of professional conflict is a reflection of her vindictive personality." she'd calmly defended herself.

"You need to realize you're the problem. You have to learn to let things go. Just do what you're told instead of resisting all the time. Don't let work affect your life so much."

After this conversation the idea of leaving her job died. The assurance of her potential and confidence in betting on herself had cooled enough to be tucked in her back pocket.

Today her intensity had burned brightly as she'd quit her job. She would have to tell him what she'd done.

"I quit my job today." The words rushed out in a single breath, which she now held waiting for his reaction.

"Oh."

Pure disappointment. Worse than anger.

Her heart was pounding and she could see he was going to leave her any second. She'd definitely crossed the line. She couldn't pinpoint the exact reason she'd quit without his awareness. Probably because she didn't want to be reasoned with or stopped again. He deserved better than this. He's caring and she loves him dearly. And now she'd treated him as if he couldn't be trusted to understand even though she didn't try.

"Well what's the plan now?" her partner asked after what seemed like enough time for their marriage to completely dissolve.

"I have the $20,000 I won from the scratch off and about $30,000 in savings so I can keep up my half of the financial responsibilities for awhile. We can keep costs split 50/50. I know it's not fair to make you take on more when-"

"Emma, that's not what I'm asking about. I can support us financially and you know it. We might not be able to do all the things around the house you wanted, but I don't mind that. They didn't really bother me in the first place."

His words were so full of quiet resolve it hurt her feelings.

"I'm not exactly sure. I think I'll do some writing. I have my blog and think a second edition of my book would do well. So I'll start with that. I'd also like to explore creative writing like fiction maybe, or poetry or graphic novels. I'm not really sure I guess."

Why was it that he had the commitment to continue working for a paycheck reliably and without question while her only commitment is to be lured by the magnetic pull of possibility when the job she has becomes stale?

They went about the rest of the evening like nothing had happened. She knew he needed time and space. She hated the feeling of letting him bear the burden of responsibility. She'd pursued her career specifically because it gave her financial independence. Now she'd just given that up. He was never going to leave his job anyway. But what if he did want to leave, what if he had bigger dreams he'd just never shared with her? Her selfish and rushed decision had cut those dreams off at the knees.

That night she went to bed having decided to go out and find another job. She was willing to do anything and with her education and experience. It wouldn't be hard to find the next employer.

She laid in bed enjoying the early morning light and the softness of the sheets.

"Have a good morning sweetheart. Love you." He said kissing her before he headed off to work.

Slowly the vacuum of fear began pulling at her thoughts. Why did she think anyone would pay to read her writing. She had no idea what she was doing and couldn't even verbalize her lack of a plan to David. She didn't know the first thing about writing, she would have to go get another job soon. She'd tell David when he got home from work later that night.

She spent the whole day cleaning. At least if she wasn't contributing financially she could pretend to be some sort of domestic goddess. The house was spotless and she'd done the prep for a four course Italian meal and baked his favorite chocolate chip cookies. She'd talk to him when he got home and smooth things over with good food.

But he didn't come home.

When he was 45 minutes late she decided to head out for a run to clear her head. Sometimes things came up last minute at the hospital. She was afraid it was not a patient, but that he wasn't coming home and didn't call him. If he wanted to leave she couldn't stop him. How stupid she'd been to give up her financial independence.

A run would help. After six miles of pounding out her thoughts she was no closer to an answer but her body was tired and she'd worked off the anxiety. She was grabbing a glass of water and noticed a small black notebook on the counter. She opened the front cover to find a note.

Emma,

I know how powerful your pen can be. I love you and can't wait to see you shine.

Love,

David

She heard footsteps behind her as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head.

"Sorry I'm late. I was trying to find the right notebook to capture lightning in a bottle. Are these chocolate chip cookies for me?"