I calculated my life to have you in it - edited the places I wanted to go, the things I wanted to see because your health kept you from walking more than 50 feet around Trader Joe’s. I had a wheelchair waiting for you to use it, for me to push it if you’d just agree to go to the supposed ‘happiest place on earth’ with me. But even if you didn’t want to, I didn’t need to go - because the happiest place in the world, at the time, for me, was always next to you. I put everything on hold in hopes that you’d get better but you just got worse and it was just my fault.
Your physical health declined along with my mental health. Until I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.
I dug for the happinees, I really did. I dug so hard to salvage us even in the end. I wanted to prove that I could love you through the good and the bad - especially the bad. I wanted to prove that my love was unchanging - impermeable. And in a way, it still is.
It didn’t hit me until months after our break-up did I learn that you would have never been happy with me. No matter how many times I chose you, how much I publicized our relationship to scream to the world that I was in love and taken, no matter how much I tried to prove my love for you - it would have never been enough. Your suspicions would win. Your undeserved tainted perception of me would win. You would always win. But if it wasnt fighting for us, i didnt want to fight anymore.
In the end, I chose to give up. Not because this was a game of mahjong and I had the winning piece all alomg. Or even a game at all. But because you needed to keep your life, and if I ever loved you at all, that was the last thing I could do for you while still alive.
Thank you for the lessons.
