I'm here on this trip, you know, the fancy one. The one I paid for. Every single penny. My partner... he's enjoying it, really enjoying it, like he deserves it. And he does, I guess. We've been together a long time. But I look at him, sometimes, across the table while he's laughing with the waiter, and I just feel this cold, hard knot in my stomach. I mean, I love him. I do. But I see the way he just... drifts. He's always had these big ideas, but they never really go anywhere. Not like mine did. I spent years in the military, you learn discipline there, you learn to see things through, no matter how much it hurts. You don't just... half-ass your life. And I know that’s not fair. To compare his life to mine. Civilian life is different, I get that now. But all these years, I’ve been the one making sure the bills are paid, making sure we have enough saved. I thought maybe, eventually, he’d find his footing. Get serious about something. But he just... doesn't. And I keep thinking, I’m 59 now. I’ve worked my tail off for decades. What if I get to 70 and I’m still the one carrying all the weight? What if I look back and realize I spent my whole life making up for someone else's... I don't even know what to call it. Not laziness, exactly. More like a lack of... fire. A lack of *drive*. It's just, sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, and it’s like a punch to the gut. All these years, all this sacrifice, all the things I put off for myself... and for what? So we can go on these trips, paid for by my efforts, while he dreams about his next hobby? I mean I don't even — whatever. I just feel so... resentful. And that's a terrible thing to feel about someone you’re supposed to love. Especially now, when we’re supposed to be winding down. I just wanted someone to build a future with, a real one. Not just me building it for two.