I’m struggling with a lump in my throat and a tears swelling in my eyes. I am reminded of how much I loved her, and how much it hurt to have that abruptly cancelled. I’ve not fully comprehended the shock of abandonment. of a love that I thought was deeper than any I had known… to have that ripped from me is inviting indescribable anguish. I suffer with a empty chasm that had been filled with adoration for another person. I absolutely loved every part of her, every smile, every sob, every tear she cried, every funny little way she walked. I can’t help but remember how deeply I loved her. How truly, I appreciated her company, and revealed everything to her, and let he be in the sacred circle of my life. To exile her from it has been like committing treason on myself. Part of me died forever when she told me that she was through with me. It’s a fundamental rejection based on circumstance, elated emotions and a lack of foresight. Truly I believe life still could have worked, gotten better even been something totally new, If you’d only have been willing to try again with me. But even that was repulsive. Everything about who I am you found abhorrent to such an extent as to never want anything to do with me, ever again. I can’t help but take that kind of personally. And I’m such an idiot, because I’m not observant and I fall into ruts. And I lost you when I was in my deepest dark place. I lost you, the only thing that I truly held in the center of my love. Ever. And I lost you.
I don’t think I’m likely to just “get over” that. I royally fucked up, and did enough bad things to her to drive her away, permanently. I must be an unadulterated toxic waste site that kills everything that strays near it. Is that the reality of my solitude? The true depth of the bleakness of having been given up on, and left forever. I can’t relay the level of suffering that comes from that cold, real fact. It drives itself through me like cold steel. I can’t breathe sometimes because I miss her touch, her smell. I miss the way she laughed at my jokes, the way she listened to my stories. I never had a ton of things in common with her, but I appreciated her creativity, her spontaneity, her ambition. She had fire, and spunk, and I liked that. I thought her heart would forgive even my most wretched of dispositions, but I was wrong. It had a limit, and that limit was found and broken. I wish I was still being loved the way I had been… I wish I was still in love with her the way I imagine I was. I wanted to center my whole life around this rare flower, this traumatized beauty… I just never let her know how precious she was to me, I guess. I can’t explain what happened to me, but I sure can learn from it. And I’m doing my best to make sure this doesn’t happen again. But to do that, and pursue my mental health as my life priority… I will surely to be used to doing it alone. I can’t expect to put someone through the kind of torture it is to deal with someone who is deeply mentally ill. She never really understood what kind of challenge I was, and she got frightened when she found out, and wanted out. It was all too much. The neglect, the constant analysis and lack of compassion. I get it. I mean, I have to get why, because how else am I ever going to learn anything from this disaster?
I don’t know how to tell you what it feels like to be strangled by sadness, dissolving into vile acid and hissing with despair. I wish I was somehow still worthy of her love. I wish I had the validation of someone there, making you smile inside. Because that’s what she did for me, she made me work so god damn hard, every day, pushing myself to the limit and doing it so that I could have that life with her. It was what I wanted when I went to work, when I started being independent again, I did it for her, for that life with her… because I loved her so much I glowed in the dark with energy to make her, and myself proud. Jax, I don’t regret giving all that year of my life to you. I would do it all again, because you were such a joy for that time, and such a clever little spot. I’ll never forget how good you used to make me feel. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before in my life… like nothing I ever expect to feel again. I’m deep in guilt over how I took care of myself, and how I contributed to the way we fell apart. I wish I had it back. I wish I had her back. I wish I didn’t have to hurt so bad all the time, and feel so totally alone sometimes at night, and the feel like you just wish it could be ok again. But I know, it won’t be sometimes.