The falcon cannot hear the falconer

The puzzle that sits before me seems impossible to solve. Or, more accurately, it seems a puzzle for which there are several possible solutions.

The main question: how to find happiness while sharing a town I’ve never felt comfortable in—or that I could afford, more important—with my ex-husband and his new wife (my ex-neighbor)? How, also, to find that happiness when the relationship I’m in with a man who lives an hour away feels more and more important to me?

I know: Wait. Think. Something’s got to give, as they say.

And the line from Yeats’ “The Second Coming” these days always teasing my intuition:

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.