Leaving Afghanistan Better Than We Found It was Never Possible
I’ve been thinking a lot about my friend Jordan lately. I haven’t seen her in a while and I would like to get together with her, her husband Tom—have them over to our new place, see the kid, drink some beer, have some laughs. But mostly, I’ve been thinking about Jordan because of a rule she lived by during her dating years.
“Always leave your ex better than you found them.”
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?